


Creative and Original Title (Kinktober 2020)

by MiKUSABBATH



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Begging, Blindfolds, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bondage, Bottom Prince Sidon, Breathplay, Choking, Cunnilingus, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Finger Sucking, Gemplay, Hand Jobs, Hickeys, Hylian Prince Sidon, Intercrural Sex, Kinktober, Kinktober 2020, Knifeplay, Light Bondage, Lingerie, M/M, Marking, Masturbation, Mirror Sex, Modern AU, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Denial, Overstimulation, Pet Names, Prince Sidon Has Two Penises, Prostitution, Reverse Bunny Suit, Rimming, Role Reversal, Scissoring, Soft Femdom, Softness, Spanking, Stockings, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, Tentacle Dick, Thief Link, Threesome, Titfuck, Titfucking, Top Link, Trans Link, Vibrators, Zora Link (Legend of Zelda), ass eating, bottom ghirahim, except not really, feat bazz, formal wear, gem play, power bottom ghirahim, power bottom link, royal guard uniform, service top link, sidon is a simp oops, strap on, succubus midna, sword spirit ghirahim, tattoo artist link has my uwus, thigh highs, think vampire esque, tp link eats pussy bc of course he does, trans ghirahim, true form ghirahim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:56:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 73,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26767636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiKUSABBATH/pseuds/MiKUSABBATH
Summary: Prompts and pairings included in each chapter title. LoZ only.30. Sidlink - Deepthroating“I’m going to take all of you.”Link says it with so much conviction that Sidon almost believes him.
Relationships: Ghirahim/Link (Legend of Zelda), Link/Midna (Legend of Zelda), Link/Midna/Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Link/Prince Sidon, Midna/Zelda (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 106
Kudos: 252





	1. Ghiralink - Knifeplay

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt list [here.](https://twitter.com/kinktober2020/status/1292137619640459272?s=20)
> 
> My amazing friend soborednow drew fanart for day 15. It's super lovely and awesome, so please give it some love! The piece can be found [here.](https://soborednow.tumblr.com/post/632501689973374976/when-i-read-the-kinktober-submition-of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first Ghiralink piece I've posted, though I have something longer in the works. Enjoy!

The Earth Temple is unbearably hot, but it feels as if the temperature spikes as soon as Link sets his eyes upon Ghirahim. His cheeks are set ablaze by the sound of throaty laughter echoing throughout the chamber, but at least he can blame that on the heat. 

He draws the Goddess Sword, preparing for a fight. Sword clutched in his hand, he’s too overwhelmed by the heat (it’s definitely that) to pay much attention to Ghirahim’s words. 

With a flash of diamonds, Ghirahim is much too close. Link had felt _somewhat_ safe while Ghirahim was talking down at him, perched up high on the head of the dragon statue. But now he’s so close that Link sucks in a breath, his body freezing in place. 

Another chuckle echoes between them, this time quieter and just for Link. He’s fucked, surely. He tightens his grip on his sword, to no avail. Just as easily as their first encounter, Ghirahim disarms him, this time before he can even manage to take a swing at the demon. The Goddess Sword skitters across the ground with a sharp _clang_. Despite being without a weapon, Link lets out a sigh of relief, grateful that Ghirahim hadn’t thrown it into the lava below.

As quickly as Ghirahim had appeared in front of him, he’s suddenly pushing Link into the barrier that lines the slope they’re standing on. Link’s breath is knocked away, and the dagger that slides up against his throat keeps him from leaning forward and gasping for air. 

“Oh Skychild, don’t you know it’s rude to ignore someone when they talk to you? What I have to say is much more important than whatever silly little thoughts you have running through your mind, so I must be insistent that you _listen to me_ ,” his last words are punctuated by the increasing pressure of the dagger. Link leans further against the barrier, desperate to put space between himself and Ghirahim for more than one reason.

Link nods as frantically as he’s able to with the sharp edge of the dagger pressed against his throat. He pleads with his eyes, trying to show Ghirahim that he’ll listen. He hopes that it will make him back off, except shit, fuck, damn Hylia herself, Ghirahim steps even closer. 

There’s nowhere to go now. He’s pressed as far into the barrier as he’s able to go, and with each passing second, Ghirahim inches closer. He’ll know soon, if he doesn’t already. Link’s erection is obvious, straining against his pants and tenting the fabric. Link recants his previous damnation, praying to Hylia for mercy, for Ghirahim to back off and go away and leave Link alone to take care of his growing _problem_.

Unfortunately (or not), Link’s prayers go unanswered. Ghirahim leans in even closer, and that long tongue flicks out against his ear. Despite the heat, a shiver runs down Link’s spine, and he has to bite his lip to keep a moan from escaping out into the air. 

“Have I truly shocked you into silence? Last time I remember you being so… _vocal_ ,” Ghirahim drawls into his ear, tongue flicking against the tip when he finishes speaking.

“Fuck off, Ghirahim!” He hates that his voice squeaks around the other man’s name, hates the way his blush has spread to the tips of his ears. 

Ghirahim chuckles but pulls his face away. The dagger presses further into Link’s throat as a warning, gray eyes flashing with something dark. Link stills, and the pressure eases off once more. 

“Such a foul mouth. It really doesn’t suit you, you know. Not with that pretty face of yours,” Link’s eyes widen and he _swears_ he sees a glint of something in Ghirahim’s eyes, “But that’s beside the point. You’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side, and for that you deserve to be punished.”

The glint in Ghirahim’s eyes is stronger than ever, and suddenly Link realizes what it means. The pieces fall together, as if they’re some sort of convoluted puzzle. The last piece is set into place when Ghirahim’s thigh presses against his erection. 

Ghirahim is at his other ear this time, his words dark but not with violence, “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice this, dear hero? The first time you reacted to me, all the way back at Skyview Temple, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But _this_ …you could never hide this from me.” As if to punctuate his words, Ghirahim grinds his thigh harshly against Link, and this time he’s unable to hold in his moans.

“ _Please_ …”

Despite Link’s whine, Ghirahim continues on, “I had my suspicions before, but last time you weren’t as…how should I put it… _excited_ to see me. But back to the topic of your punishment,” Ghirahim pulls away from his ear, using the dagger to tilt Link’s chin up. When Link doesn’t meet his eyes right away, he presses the dagger further against his neck, so harsh he nearly draws blood. 

Link can’t help the way his cock twitches in response. He also can’t help the way his eyes widen in horrified realization as they meet Ghirahim’s. He watches as blazing heat pools into dark gray eyes, and he isn’t sure if he should be terrified or aroused.

“My, my, Skychild, who would have known that being put in such a _compromising position_ ,” the dagger presses in close again, before easing off almost as soon as it’s there, “would affect you in such a way. I know exactly what to do with you now.”

His breath catches in his throat at the words, and he’s definitely aroused now. Ghirahim grinds his thigh against Link once more, and finally he gives into the feeling, relaxing against the barrier and pressing forward into the pressure, his eyes fluttering shut with pleasure. 

“ _Please_ Ghirahim, please I want this. I want you,” his voice is rough, low, but it gets the point across. 

Just as he gives in, just as he allows himself to have Ghirahim (truthfully it’s Ghirahim who has him, but Link wouldn’t dare admit it), the demon pulls away. 

Link opens his eyes in an instant, but Ghirahim is gone, leaving nothing behind but the dark echoes of confident laughter.

“Watch me, please…” he whispers into the empty air, desperate for something he can’t have. 

Any shame he might have (though he’s past the point of that, really) is gone. Link is too far gone to ignore his erection, and even thinking about fighting monsters is out of the question. He falls to the floor in a slump, frantic hands fumbling with his trousers. He finally gets them loose, shoving them down past his knees along with his tight boxers. 

The air is as hot as ever, but as soon as his cock is free, he feels as if the temperature rises even higher. One hand grabs at his cock, pumping frantically, while the other presses against his throat. The pressure isn’t enough to choke himself, but it’s enough to pull him into the fantasy of Ghirahim’s dagger pressed there, holding him in place. It isn’t enough, the feeling is a cheap imitation of the real thing, but it’s all he has. 

His gloved hand provides glorious friction against his skin, the tip of his cock already dribbling fluid. He’s going to come soon. Ghirahim had worked him up, left him high and dry, and now Link has to bring himself to orgasm. 

With both of his hands occupied, he’s unable to hold in his groans and grunts. He isn’t usually very vocal when he touches himself, but now he’s making low noises in the back of his throat. He thumbs at the head of his cock, rubbing and rubbing and _oh Hylia_ squeezing the shaft. It’s not enough, it’s too much, the air around him is so hot he feels like he’s going to explode. 

No matter how much he teases at his favorite places, he can’t push himself over the edge toward orgasm. Still needing that last push, he reaches down, prodding at his taint, yet it still isn’t enough. With his right hand pumping his cock, he uses the left to _scratch_ at his throat instead of pressing down and that’s it. 

He’s gone, body running even hotter than the lava below him. He comes, a plea falling off of his lips, out of his control, “ _Ghirahim._ ”

It takes him more than a few minutes to calm down, still panting from the intensity of his orgasm. With a grunt, he pushes himself up against the barrier to stand, pulling up his boxers and pants. Without any other way to clean the cum off of his gloved hand, he wipes it on the back of his pants with a grimace. He needs new ones anyway. 

He stands on shaky legs for another few minutes, and finally walks toward his sword. He picks up the Goddess Sword where it had been carelessly discarded by Ghirahim, sliding it into the sheath on his back. 

Though he doesn’t have much more time to spare, he takes a few seconds to focus on his breathing, finally cooling down. If he weren’t so focused, he doesn’t think he’d hear the faint noise of fluttering diamonds, bending reality like cracking glass. 

With a jolt, Link jerks his head up to the dragon statue, drawing his sword once more. Ghirahim is sprawled out again, looking much too comfortable. He makes eye contact with Link, staring him down despite the distance between them. Slowly, he raises his arms and begins to clap. 

“My, Skychild, what a lovely show you put on for me—thank you for the invitation. As alluring as it was to watch you lose yourself while calling out for me, I truly do need to go now. But don’t worry, I’m not so cruel as to leave you without a parting gift.”

The snap of his fingers rings out in the chamber between them, and Link tightens his grip on the Goddess Sword. 

“This is my good friend Scaldera. Allow him to show you just how _pleased_ I am with you. The next time we meet, Link, will be a time that neither of us will forget,” he keeps Link pinned in place with his eyes, his words. When he flashes away, for good this time, Link can’t help the whine that escapes his throat. 

He barely dodges out of the way of the boulder rolling toward him, and he gulps as it transforms into a roiling mass of rock and lava. 

Link runs to face the monster, and though he’s focused entirely on his battle, a small part of him is stuck on Ghirahim. He’s _fucked_ , and the worst part is that it feels good.


	2. Midlink - Titfucking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time I've written Midlink, but I love them so very much.  
> Canon is mine now Midna did NOT break that mirror.
> 
> I didn't like the prompts for day 2, so I ended up using one of my own choosing.

They’ve barely made it into the Twilight Realm before Midna is pulling Link through the castle, past the throne room and the offended squawking of pompous nobles, and finally to her personal quarters. 

Feelings built up over long months of journeying together are finally too much to contain, especially after being denied by both of them for so long. It had been easy enough for Link to ignore his spiral into love for Midna—Zant, and then Ganondorf, had proved to be quite the distraction. But after seeing Midna’s true form, knowing the _real_ her…he can’t deny himself any longer. He’s deeply in love, and seeing her for the first time sparks an intense lust that hadn’t been there before. It’s new, overwhelming, but he knows by the burning gaze of Midna’s red eyes that she feels the same.

Link is pushed onto the bed with the same burning urgency as before. He doesn’t mind, not really, considering the view he gets of Midna looming over him. He backs himself up against the headboard, sitting eye level with her chest. And, well, he really can’t help that his eyes stay focused there, fixated on dark skin. 

Midna chuckles above him, the sound as dark as the shadows that surround them but as soft as the sunlight he’s used to. She notices, of course. Link has no shame, and why should he? He loves Midna, loves everything about her, so of course his lust-addled mind would draw his eyes to her chest. 

“Go on puppy, you can touch,” her voice is low, sultry, and Link’s cock twitches in the confines of his pants. 

She chuckles again, more darkness seeping in this time. Link can’t make eye contact, unsure if her breasts are truly _that_ distracting or he’s avoiding the smug look he knows has taken over her features. He feels his face heat up, cheeks flushed, and leans into Midna’s soft touch as she caresses his cheeks. 

“Twili don’t react quite like this, you know. I never thought that seeing your cheeks stained red would be so appealing,” she croons into his ear, laughing heartily when the blush spreads to its pointed tip. 

Link _wants._ He wants Midna in whatever way she’ll have him. Despite his deep-seated need, he can’t ignore the fact that she’s a queen, and though she had encouraged him, it doesn’t feel right to let loose on someone as magnificent as her. Midna is so much more than a late night Castle Town romp. 

Midna, of course, has no such reservations about doing this. It turns out that she’s more impatient than he would’ve thought, as she snatches up his wrists and pulls them toward her chest. She doesn’t let go until Link takes greedy handfuls, kneading the soft flesh with ever-increasing eagerness. He smirks up at her, her soft gasps pushing him to continue. He brushes his thumbs over her nipples, watching as their firm peaks take shape from the darkness of her skin. 

He teases her, but he should know by now that that isn’t something she’ll tolerate. With a snap of Midna’s long, graceful fingers, everything changes. Link’s clothes are gone, leaving him bare before his queen. His hands grasp at empty air, held securely behind his back. Ah. He’d forgotten about Twili magic.

The knowing smirk on Midna’s face is enough, and this time he meets her eyes, allowing himself to melt into her gaze. He’s at her mercy now, but he finds that he wants it that way. He wants to be Midna’s, to please her, to do whatever she asks of him. He tells her this, voice low and rough, and watches as her smirk is replaced by widened eyes. 

“Well, well, Wolfie, I certainly wouldn’t have expected that. You truly are full of surprises. You’re so perfect like this, so soft and sweet and pliant,” as if to emphasize her words, she brushes her fingers across his chest, toying with his nipples. Link leans into her touch, allows her to do what she pleases with him, grunting softly under her ministrations.

“I love when you’re the opposite too, of course, all strong and tough and domineering, but what a refreshing change of pace this is. I’ve always been in charge of you, in a way, but this? You’re so perfect like this, Link, so willing to let me _have you_ in a way no one else ever could,” Link moans loudly when she says his name, the word dripping off of her lips like sweet ichor. He needs to hear it more, again, though he won’t deny that he enjoys the pet names too, as well as the bossiness that comes along with them.

She clears her throat, demanding his attention. She’s darkness, shadows, her presence commanding. It feels as if the entire room shifts, and with another snap of her fingers, Midna’s clothing, minimal as it is, is gone. Link gulps at the sight, so incredibly overwhelmed by the borders between soft blue and shadowy black. Supple curves beg for his attention, soft skin calling out to him.

A hand cups beneath his chin, tilting his head up and away from Midna’s magnificent form. He’s forced to meet her eyes, but in truth he does so willingly. “I’m going to fuck you with my tits,” her voice is low and sultry, and she smiles softly despite it all when Link’s breath catches. “Is that alright with you? It’s important that you want this too.” 

Link’s reaction is immediate, so much so that it should be embarrassing. It’s not, his actions fueled entirely by enthusiasm and eagerness to love Midna in this new way. Before he can help it, words fall from his mouth in a plea, “It’s more than alright. Please Midna, I need you. I want you so badly.”

As if to emphasize his words, he shallowly grinds his hips up toward her own, attempting to show her just how much she’s affecting him, how hard he is for her. She tuts softly, one hand reaching back to squeeze harshly at the base of his dick. A warning. Link sinks into the bed at the feeling, groaning when she uses a finger to collect the bit of precum that had dribbled out from the tip. She runs her finger along the tops of her breasts, staining the dark skin an opaque white. Midna looks down at herself and smiles, meeting Link’s lust-filled gaze with her own. 

Permission granted, Midna clambers down Link’s torso, hovering her chest above his hips. She gazes up at him once more, something soft pooling in her eyes along with the lust. Red eyes are quickly pulled away as Midna focuses intently on Link’s cock. She uses the same hand as before to pump his length a few times, chuckling at the way it twitches when she first grabs him. 

Both of her hands are put to use now, as she grabs at her breasts and wraps them around the heat of Link’s cock. Her breasts are large enough that they envelop a good portion of his length while easily swallowing up his girth. 

She starts slowly, working her breasts up and down his cock, drawing out grunts and groans, pleased at the way his toes curl in pleasure. Link is a man of few words, but he makes so much noise now, low grunts occasionally punctuated by breathy gasps and moans. 

With a grin painting her lips, Midna leans down to lick at the head of Link’s cock where it pokes out from between her breasts. His breath hitches, his whole body freezes, but just like all of her other touches, he relaxes into this as well, taking it so perfectly. She rewards him by sucking the tip into her mouth, using her lips and tongue and hollowed cheeks to thoroughly pleasure him. 

It’s easy to fall into a rhythm, but as Midna pulls her mouth away from Link, she quickly realizes just how much she’d underestimated his stamina. Despite how much she’s _clearly_ affecting him, he still isn’t close to orgasm. 

In this moment, while fucking Link on her tits and admiring his stamina, she sees the full extent of how perfectly submissive he is. He doesn’t struggle against his bonds, doesn’t cant his hips upward in an attempt to quicken her pace. His dark blond hair is quite the mess, some strands stuck to his forehead with sweat. His bright blue eyes shine as he gazes down at her, transfixed on the sight of her breasts working his cock so perfectly. Link is a sight to behold as he allows himself to be taken by Midna.

Sooner than she’d like to admit it, Midna wants for more. As lovely as it is to see Link so submissive, just for her, she either needs to explore more of him or allow him to have his way with her. Both options are equally appealing, but something deep inside of her longs to experience the duality between this new, pliant Link who hangs on her every word and the raw strength and domineering presence of the Link she knows so well.

Another snap of her fingers releases Link’s hands, and she chuckles at the bewildered look in his eyes. 

“Come on then, puppy, ravish me,” her voice nearly trembles with need. 

Link is quick to reverse their positions, pressing Midna flat against the bed as he straddles her chest. His eyes are as blue as ever, but the lust in them burns so bright Midna nearly has to look away. 

He leans down, face still flushed, and whispers against her lips, “Are you sure it’s alright?”

She lets out a frustrated growl, finally pulling him into a kiss. It’s deep and rough but filled with love, and when she pulls away her lips brush his as she speaks, “I want you Wolfie, now get on with it before I get impatient.”

It’s enough for Link, who immediately sets about groping at Midna’s breasts. He teases her nipples, his touches so fleeting she doesn’t have time to register them before he’s pushing her breasts apart to make way for his cock.

This time, Link holds Midna’s tits in place, his hands firm but not rough. His pace is brutal as he ruts into her soft flesh, burying himself in overwhelming heat. Midna feels the way his leaking cock slicks across her flesh, easing the way and making a mess of her dark skin. She can’t look away, moaning softly at the sight of Link claiming her in such a primal way. 

She reaches up with her hands to grab at his waist. She grabs a handful of his ass (it’s tight, perfect), but pulls away with a chuckle at his frustrated huff. It isn’t that he didn’t like it, she can tell, but he’s too focused on his cock to let her tease him further.

Link’s movements become frantic when he’s close, his hips pistoning against her sharply, quickly. Midna can’t get enough of the way his eyes stare down at her in a haze of love and lust, the way his sharpened canines glint in the low light. 

“I love you,” he claims her softly, primally, the softness of his words a sharp contrast to his brutal pace that doesn’t flag until he comes across her chest. Finally, he slows his pace, nearly collapsing against her but managing to hold himself up by grasping at the headboard.

Midna watches the way his sides heave with the effort of each labored breath. Link is beautifully handsome, eyes and teeth glinting down at her as he smiles, this time soft and happy. 

“I love you too,” her voice is just as soft, her words making him smile even wider.

Link looks down at the mess he’s made of Midna’s chest, and she can feel his cock twitch weakly in response. This man is unlike any other being she’s ever had the pleasure of knowing.

She grabs at his shoulders, easing him down her body so that their faces are close, pulling him into a soft kiss. It’s open mouthed but stays sweet, their pace slow but thorough. Eventually, he pulls away and moves to lick at the mess on her chest, but Midna is quick to pull at his hair, bringing him back into their kiss. She notes the way he gasps at the sensation, but focuses on kissing him breathless for now.

In the brief pauses between open mouthed kisses, she tells him to leave the mess, that she wants to see the white against black, wants to soak in the sight of his raw, primal passion. 

Their kisses soon come to a halt, and Link moves down her body once more, but this time he bypasses her breasts. 

They share a heated gaze as Link stares up at Midna, his head nestled between the thickness of her thighs. He moves his head to kiss at the dark skin of her inner thigh, his voice low but not quite soft, “Can I do this for you?”

She stares him down, red eyes meeting blue in an expression of love that words could never convey, “Oh yes Link, please do indulge me.”

And indulge he does.


	3. Ghiralink - Orgasm Denial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the piece written on day one. This is also the longest one yet, and though I didn't intend for it to get this long, it certainly ran away from me.  
> Enjoy!

Ghirahim hadn’t made good on his promise, and Link isn’t sure how to feel about that. They’d seen each other when Zelda escaped through the Gate of Time, and again at the Ancient Cistern. He wouldn’t describe either of those encounters as “one he wouldn’t forget,” and he’s unsure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

Some deep, insatiable part of him longs to continue what they’d started at the Earth Temple, but he knows that isn’t very heroic of him.

When Link stumbles upon Ghirahim at the Fire Sanctuary, he has a feeling that this just might be their unforgettable encounter. As soon as he steps into the large chamber and catches sight of the demon, an overwhelming heat settles low in his gut.

Low words echo throughout the chamber as Ghirahim starts on a long spiel about Zelda and his mission, peppering in threats of violence. This time, Link actively tunes him out, that is, until Ghirahim mentions a thread of fate that ties them together. Unlike at the Earth Temple, he isn’t chided for his lack of attention, and Link isn’t quite sure what that means. 

The heat in his gut won’t go away, no matter how much he tunes Ghirahim out. He doesn’t know what to expect from this encounter (though he knows what he _wants_ ). It’s definitely a surprise when the gray skin of Ghirahim’s arms flakes away into infinite blackness.

"Lovely, aren’t they? You'll find the supple skin of my arms tougher than any armor. Doesn't their shape leave you…breathless?” He pauses, and strikes one of his usual dramatic poses. It really shouldn’t affect Link at all, and yet… 

“Behold! Such beauty! Such a pure form! Such an exquisite physique! Such stunning features! Yes, I've pretty much got it all. Though there is one teensy, tiny thing I lack… Namely, mercy."

With that, Ghirahim conjures two daggers and advances toward him. Shit. Fuck. Of all the things that could’ve happened, Link wasn’t expecting Ghirahim to _actually_ fight him. 

He tears his eyes away from the daggers, focusing on his opponent. There isn’t any use in looking at them, on remembering just how close and personal he’d gotten with one of those daggers at the Earth Temple. 

Link focuses on the fight, ignoring the burning in his gut and treating Ghirahim as just another enemy, nothing more. Eventually, Ghirahim seems to view him as a worthwhile opponent, finally getting serious as he draws two swords of his own. Link gulps. 

Now he’s forced to pay attention to the daggers, forced to follow their movement while still keeping track of Ghirahim.

It’s a hard fight, but he’s come a long way since the time he faced Ghirahim at Skyview Temple. By the end, he has quite a few nicks and cuts, and is breathing hard, but overall he’s no worse for wear. 

Ghirahim concedes defeat, and teleports away in a flash of diamonds. It isn’t what Link had expected from their encounter, but he tries his best to deny his disappointment. 

“Oh Skychild, did you really think I’d forget my promise so easily?” Ghirahim whispers directly into his ear, following his words with a long lick of his tongue. Link shudders, but his reaction isn’t fueled by fear. He’d let his guard down for just a second, but it was more than enough. Ghirahim is behind him now, and brings his sword up to press into his neck.

“Though I’m frustrated about the Spirit Maiden, I think I’ve caught myself something much better,” his voice croons into Link’s ear, causing it to twitch the slightest bit. His tongue comes back once more, and Link has to bite his lip to keep from letting out a noise that would be decidedly unheroic. 

Despite the sword pressed into his throat and the tongue against his ear, Link doesn’t struggle. If anything, he gives in, allowing the heat in his gut to boil over. He hates that he wants this, but it isn’t something he can deny.

Ghirahim spins him around, and suddenly he’s pressed into one of the stone columns lining the chamber. The sword is still at his throat, but Ghirahim’s other hand is making quick work of tossing aside his hat and pulling and petting at his hair, “Oh Link, what a mess you are. What has gotten you so… frazzled?”

Link is unable to hold back now, anger mixing in with his lust. There’s something deeper there, too, but that’s easy enough to ignore for now. He lets the anger seep into his words, “I wouldn’t be such a _mess_ if you hadn’t just tried to kill me for Hylia knows how long.” 

The demon neither confirms nor denies that his intentions had been to kill him, a fact that isn’t lost on Link. Instead, he pushes the blade forward, the hand in Link’s hair pulling roughly, forcing him to tilt his head back and bare his throat. 

“Though I may lack mercy, I would _never_ do something like this against your will. Tell me how much you want me, Link. I want to hear just how unholy your thoughts are. Oh, if only your little Goddess could see you now! Entirely at my mercy in all of the right ways. Tell me, Link. Tell me that I can have you,” Ghirahim’s gray eyes burn into his own, something deep inside of them just as hot as the feeling in Link’s gut.

Link stays silent, trying to collect his thoughts. He wants this, of course he does, but he doesn’t know exactly how to say so.

Ghirahim is impatient, yanking at his hair again as irritation taints his words, “I won’t repeat myself. Spit it out or I’m leaving. I have no time for moral crises.”

" _Please,"_ he rasps out, then clears his throat to continue, “You can have me, Ghirahim, do whatever you want, just _please_ touch me.”

Another whisper in his ear, “Oh Skychild, such dangerous words. But you sound so lovely when you beg, so I suppose I’ll oblige.” 

In an instant, the sword is gone, and Ghirahim is no longer crowding him against the pillar. Link is left reeling, conflicted about the space between them. With a snap of Ghirahim’s black fingers, his cloak appears on the ground. Ghirahim tilts his head toward it, and when Link doesn’t move right away, he grabs at his shoulders and pushes him to the floor.

Before Link can react, Ghirahim is straddling his hips, pushing him down to lay flat across the cloak. He’s grateful that it cushions his head against the hard stone floor, but he knows it can only do so much. He’ll surely be sore once Ghirahim has finished with him, more than from their fight, though Link honestly doesn’t mind.

Ghirahim looms above him, his white curtain of hair swaying with the slightest of movements. Link is drawn to it, captivated by the sight. He wonders if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I’m not going to kiss you,” Link lets out a whine, but is silenced by a finger upon his lips and a deathly glare, “I don’t think you’ve earned that, not after being so irritating. Besides, I don’t see how letting _those_ types of feelings get involved would be helpful.” Despite his cold words, Link _swears_ he sees a spark of warmth in Ghirahim’s eyes, something deeper and less carnal than the lust swimming at the surface.

With another snap of Ghirahim’s fingers, all of Link’s clothes are gone. Though he’s flustered beyond belief, he doesn’t protest. 

He watches as Ghirahim licks his lips as he looks him up and down. The action almost seems unconscious, and though Link flushes at that burning gaze, he doesn’t say anything about it.

“Unfortunately, I don’t have time to toy with you as much as I’d like. How lovely it would be to wring sweet, pleasured screams out of you. But alas, duty calls, so I’ll have to make my time with you brief. Don’t worry, I’ll still leave you aching for more,” Ghirahim’s words drip into his ears like dark ichor, and Link is helpless to do anything but listen and groan quietly.

Sharp teeth nibble at the tips of his ears, causing them to turn bright red. Link is truly flustered now. 

“We need something to use as lubricant. I’ve said so before, but though I lack mercy, I’m not so cruel as to take you without it,” he croons sweetly into Link’s ear, sucking the pointed tip into his mouth, breathing hot air over it once he moves away.

“I have some…stamina potion in one of my pouches,” he pants out between licks and sucks at his ears, “But you’ll have to give me back my gear so I can find the bottle.”

Ghirahim tilts his head toward the corner of the room. Link follows his gesture, belatedly realizing his clothing and gear are sitting in a neat pile near one of the columns. With a grin, Ghirahim flashes away, before reappearing back on top of him, bottle in hand. 

Neither of them have paid much attention to his cock, but it’s still achingly hard. Ghirahim inches down his body, pointing this fact out, teasing Link for being in such a state because of _him_. Link flushes, but he can’t look away. A teasing finger trails down his length, Ghirahim chuckling lowly when it twitches in response. 

He moves on quickly, and Link whines out. He’s bitten on the inside of his thigh as a warning, and though it doesn’t truly _hurt,_ the sensation of sharp teeth on such sensitive skin is overwhelming enough that he has to bite his lip to keep quiet.

The cork is pulled from the bottle with a loud _pop_ and Ghirahim grins up at him from between his legs, his expression truly devious. 

Ghirahim sticks two long fingers into the bottle, scooping out a large amount of potion. He teases his fingers around the head of Link’s cock, rubbing the potion into the skin. Showing his impatience once more, he quickly moves on, rubbing his fingers across Link’s hole, just once.

With a jolt, Link realizes that they’re _cold._ Ghirahim’s normal skin hadn’t felt like this, but the blackness eating away at his arms has made his skin cold and unyielding. The sensation isn’t entirely unpleasant—but it’s certainly a shock. 

After a brief pause, Ghirahim rubs again, chuckling when Link’s hole twitches in response. 

Link fights the urge to close or cover his eyes. For whatever reason, he can’t look away. Ghirahim looks up to meet his gaze and grins knowingly before rubbing at Link’s hole with fervor, all while maintaining eye contact. His blush burns even brighter, and Link cries out. 

He snakes a hand down, wanting to make contact with Ghirahim somehow, but his hand is pushed aside when he reaches for silky white hair. Link pouts, breath hitching as Ghirahim starts to tease the tip of his finger inside of him. He tries again, wanting to touch. He’s pushed away once more, this time Ghirahim emphasizing his frustration by thrusting his entire finger inside of Link before quickly pulling away. 

They’re both incredibly stubborn, but Link tries once more. This time, his hand makes contact with Ghirahim’s hair, who huffs at him with a half-hearted glare, but doesn’t push it away. 

Link doesn’t pull at Ghirahim’s hair or push at his head. He knows better than to try to control the pace, to control any aspect of this at all. But goddesses above, it’s so nice to _finally_ confirm that Ghirahim’s hair is soft, more than he could have ever imagined.

It’s mostly silent, the chamber’s empty air filled only with the echoes of Link’s low pants and moans and the slick squelching of Ghirahim’s fingers inside of him. 

As much as he wants to savor the prep, it’s just that: preparation for something more. Ghirahim had told him before that he doesn’t have much time, and though Link would love nothing more than to have Ghirahim slowly open him up for hours at a time, he takes what he can get. Despite it all, Ghirahim is thorough, leaving Link open and ready.

His eyes are drawn to Ghirahim as he brushes past the sash around his waist, fumbling with his pants, movements somehow graceful despite the clumsiness of such an action. Link whines out, finding it rather unfair that he won’t get to see _all_ of Ghirahim.

“Oh stop your incessant whining.” With that, Link whines again, this time using his words to express his disapproval. Ghirahim huffs, but when he looks up at Link, his eyes burn hot without a hint of darkness, “Fine, if you want me so badly. You’re such a needy thing, Skychild. I should have guessed as much, but seeing you like this, so desperate for me…not even a Demon Lord such as myself could resist such a temptation, though I’d never want to.”  
  
His snap rings out, somehow louder than all of the others. Link thinks it must be because of the gravity of the action, the building anticipation. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight of Ghirahim without clothing. Sure, his outfit is rather revealing, but it pales in comparison to the full picture. His body is well-muscled but not to a point that it’s unattractive, still slim and lean and _long._

His arms are entirely black now, though Link knows this already. A glance downward shows that his left leg, up to the knee, is pitch black, splinters of darkness branching upward. Link follows the tendrils up, up, to where his legs meet. He doesn’t look at his cock for very long, sure that he’ll get unreasonably worked up and make a fool of himself if he spends too much time there. He pulls his eyes away, looking instead at the tendrils of darkness snaking across Ghirahim’s chest and neck. 

What a picture Ghirahim paints, hovering above him in a hypnotic mix of light and darkness. Link can’t even imagine what they look like together, Ghirahim’s lithe, dark form pressed tightly against his own in a tantalizing image of temptation. 

Finally, Link settles on Ghirahim’s eyes, meeting them with his own burning gaze.

The bottle clinks softly against the ground as Ghirahim drops it, fingers covered in potion once more. He slicks his cock up, and Link is unable to look away. 

“I’m going to ask you once more. Do you want this, Link?” He rubs the head of his cock across Link’s twitching hole before he continues, “Tell me how much you want me, how desperately you want me to fuck you. I’ll ruin you for anyone else, make you mine, and you’re going to _love it._ ” 

Link nods frantically, his words straining and punctuated by little gasps and grunts, but he’s too far gone to even care, “Yes, yes, please, Ghirahim. I need you, need you inside of me, ruin me _please._ ”  
  
“Since you asked so nicely,” Ghirahim grins down at him, planting a hand on the ground above Link’s shoulder. He’s barely finished speaking before he guides his cock into Link, pushing inside. 

He gives Link time to adjust, but he makes quick work of sheathing himself fully inside. Link cries out with each movement, with each bit of hard warmth that enters him. Ghirahim coos down at him, not cruelly but not quite kindly either.

A moment is spent where Ghirahim braces his arms against the ground, his face wrenched up in pleasure. Link realizes, belatedly, that _he_ is having this effect on Ghirahim. It's comforting to know that the feeling is mutual.

After that moment, Ghirahim begins to move. He wastes no time building up to a bruising pace, maintaining eye contact with Link all along. His hips are strong, powerful, as he thrusts into Link, who is helpless to do anything but take it and _enjoy it._

He’s close. Every thrust inside of him pushes him closer toward the edge, especially when Ghirahim brushes against his prostate. He jolts at the sensation, his hole twitching weakly around Ghirahim’s cock. He moans softly when Ghirahim chuckles at him, whining when he purposefully angles his next thrusts away from that spot.

Ghirahim teases him ruthlessly, and _now_ Link is shown a lack of mercy. Every few thrusts he’ll slow down, change the angle, and brush against Link’s prostate before moving away. He grins down at Link the whole time, sharp canines glinting in the low light. 

When Link first moves his hands to clutch at Ghirahim’s back, he expects to be scolded, his hands brushed aside. When this doesn’t happen, he strengthens his grip, holding on for dear life and occasionally scratching at the hard planes of Ghirahim’s back, the skin incredibly soft beneath his hands. 

Link realizes, belatedly, that though Ghirahim is teasing him, he’s using Link’s body to his advantage. Each time he teases at Link’s prostate, causing his hole to twitch and flutter around the cock inside of him, Ghirahim is _rewarded_ by the feeling. 

He tests his theory, clenching down on purpose. Ghirahim lets out a howl, followed by a glare. His voice is rough, husky, “Now Link, you know that _I’m_ in charge here.”

A weak moan falls from his lips. Ghirahim’s thrusts are punctuated by low grunts, louder moans pulled out of him when Link twitches or clenches around him. He’ll occasionally tell Link that he’s doing well, that he looks so perfect being fucked, that succumbing to pleasure, to temptation, suits him like nothing else. 

Link is close. He’s so close it almost hurts, his own neglected cock twitching and dribbling a steady stream of precum. Despite how close he is, he knows better than to try to touch himself. 

Ghirahim changes his tune, directly targeting Link's prostate while continuing his quick, hard thrusts. Link moans over and over, pleas and cries of Ghirahim’s name pouring out from his mouth. Ghirahim leans down, licking and biting at his ear, encouraging the noises. 

It’s enough for Link to come. He’s right on the edge, his hole clenching around Ghirahim with each thrust. 

With one final thrust, Ghirahim comes inside of him, Link following soon after. 

…Except he doesn’t. Link is pulled out of his pleasured haze by the sensation of Ghirahim’s hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock, stopping his orgasm just as it began. Link whines loudly, begging and squirming under Ghirahim’s hold. 

Ghirahim pulls out of him with a slick squelch, leaving behind a gush of hot cum. 

“If only you could see yourself right now. What a pretty sight you are, Skychild,” he moves his hand up and down, jerking Link off, “If you tell me where the Gate of Time is, I’ll let you come.”

“No!” Link cries out despite his instincts, his _need_ to come at Ghirahim’s touch. 

A loud sigh rings through his ears before Ghirahim pulls his hand away, “Very well then. Your answer is disappointing, but not at all unexpected. I must be going now, Link, so you’ll have to take care of yourself once more, though sadly, this time I won’t be able to stay and watch.”

He snaps once again, clothing appearing on his body, covering up all of that gorgeous skin. Link whines. Ghirahim wouldn’t _really_ do this, would he?

Before he can move his hand down to jerk himself off, Ghirahim leans down, placing a short kiss on his lips. It’s surprisingly soft, warm, and Link’s eyes widen in shock. 

Ghirahim stands and turns away, pulling at his hair in irritation, “How dare you make me _soft_ on you,” he turns around to face Link, eyes blazing with that unknown feeling, though it’s buried beneath irritation.

“The next time we meet, you won’t be getting such gentle treatment, so forget that little moment of weakness, that _kiss,_ ” he hisses out the word, “ever happened.”

" _Please Ghirahim…_ ” Link calls out.

His words are useless, as Ghirahim shoots him a dark smirk and licks his lips. He snaps his fingers, teleporting away and leaving nothing behind but lingering diamonds. 

Link is struck by how familiar the situation is. Ghirahim has left him to get off on his own, to jerk himself off and cry out while wanting _more._

Though his orgasm is glorious and nearly shatters his world, he’s left unsatisfied. Ghirahim hadn’t made him come, and Link’s own hands could never be a substitute for any part of the demon.

Belatedly, he realizes that he’s still sprawled out on Ghirahim’s cloak. He’s surprised to see that it had been left behind. 

When he finally gets up and forces himself to get dressed, he pulls the cloak on over his shoulders. It’s only to keep warm, he tells himself. It’s only to taunt the demon, to somehow gain the slightest advantage, to show Ghirahim that he didn’t quite win. That’s what Link tells himself. 

The cloak keeps him warm, soft feelings bubbling up inside of him despite his sexual frustration. He’s surrounded by the warm smell of fresh-forged steel and something else uniquely _Ghirahim,_ that strange feeling in his heart growing ever stronger. Link knows what it is, but he refuses to acknowledge that he feels something other than waxing lust and waning hatred for the demon _._

He keeps the cloak on his shoulders _only_ out of necessity. He needs warmth, needs to gain the upper hand. Deep down, Link knows that isn’t true.


	4. Ghiralink - Breathplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two are so fun to write. I hoped that doing this would help me work on writing them and their dynamic, and I'm pleased to say that it's becoming easier and more fun each time I write them :)

“You’re my master now, Link, so you’d best get used to giving me orders. Tell me to stop,” Ghirahim’s voice is low, a frustrated growl tainting his words. 

Link isn’t quite sure how they’d gotten into this situation. They’d been sparring in Faron Woods, at Ghirahim’s insistence (“In your current, sorry state, you’re unworthy of wielding a blade as magnificent as myself. Fix your form!”). Link had gained the upper hand, and he’d quickly taken advantage.

…Except he’d somehow forgotten about the pouring rain. He’d slipped on a patch of mud, falling to the ground in a clumsy heap of limbs. In an instant, Ghirahim was on top of him, soaked hair plastered to the side of his face, sword pressed to Link’s throat. 

Ghirahim had won, clearly. Yet instead of getting up, he’d vanished his sword and wrapped a hand firmly around Link’s throat, squeezing enough that he gasps for air.

His words make sense, suddenly. Ever since they started their tentative relationship as master and sword, Ghirahim had been insistent that Link order him around, the way “a true master should.” Link refuses, of course. 

Now, he’s left without a choice. He has to order Ghirahim to stop choking him, to get off of and away from him. But he doesn’t. 

He isn’t worried that Ghirahim will kill him. He’s almost positive that their bond makes it impossible, but beyond that, Link knows deep down that Ghirahim wouldn’t give up the one thing that makes his life interesting. Link knows the feeling all too well. 

“Tell me to unhand you,” Ghirahim growls out the command, his claws scratching the slightest bit at Link’s throat.

Shit. 

Link knows Ghirahim won’t kill him, so he refuses to order him away. And yet, with the way his body is reacting, commanding Ghirahim to get off of him has suddenly become more appealing. 

Instead, he whispers a soft, “No,” his words strained. He brings a hand up to stroke through Ghirahim’s wet hair, cupping the soft skin of his cheek. 

Ghirahim freezes above him, his grip momentarily going slack. Link almost swears he sees his cheeks go pink, but whatever softness was there is gone in an instant. Ghirahim nearly _snarls_ at him, doubling down in his efforts. He leans more of his weight onto Link, straddling him now, and squeezes at his throat once more. Despite it all, he doesn’t push Link’s hand away. It’s a small victory, but he’ll take it.

“You are the most insufferable, incessantly foolish master I have ever had! I don’t understand your softness! I don’t understand why you’re so unwilling to treat me as a tool, and I hate that _I like it._ What have you done to me? You’ll pay for making me–” his tirade stops suddenly, and Link is confused.

He stares up into Ghirahim’s eyes, watches them go wide with shock. That’s _definitely_ a blush now, oh goddesses.

“Are you _hard?_ ” His tone is incredulous, his eyes searching wildly across Link’s face.

Shit. Maybe he _should_ have ordered Ghirahim off of him, but he figures that his feelings would have become obvious sooner or later. Beyond his sexual frustration, he has to admit that he has softer, romantic feelings for the Demon Lord as well.

Ghirahim stops his searching, and Link gulps. His expression changes from shock to unyielding dominance, heat burning bright in his gray eyes. Before Link has a chance to say anything in his defense, Ghirahim tightens his hold. Link’s cock twitches in response, and now it’s his eyes that widen, this time in panic.

Dark chuckles shake through Ghirahim’s frame, “Oh, I see. What an _improper_ master I have, getting off on me stealing your breath away. I can’t complain _too_ much, as seeing you at my mercy like this is certainly a stunning sight.”

This is somehow worse than any other reaction Link could have imagined. Not only is Ghirahim unbothered by Link’s arousal, but he seems to feel the same way, if the hardness pressing into Link’s stomach is any indication. He shouldn’t be worried, yet he knows that Ghirahim is going to take advantage of the situation, and he isn’t going to do anything to stop him (doesn’t want to, wouldn’t dream of it).

“What should I do with you? You need to be punished for getting me so worked up,” he grinds his erection against Link’s stomach, as if to emphasize his point, “For making me feel such soft, warm feelings.”

He snaps his fingers, and suddenly Link’s pants are yanked down around his knees, Ghirhaim’s following in the same manner. When nothing else happens, Link whines impatiently. Ghirahim squeezes at his throat, cutting off his whine, and Link sighs into the feeling, melting into the man above him.

“Tell me how much you want me, master. Tell me that it’s okay to touch you, to bring us both the pleasure we crave,” Ghirahim croons into his ear, his voice husky and low. He follows his words with a long lick along the tip of Link’s ear, leaving it twitching and red. 

“Please,” he rasps out around Ghirahim’s hand, “It’s more than okay to do this, I want you to touch me, I want you Ghirahim.”

With that, Ghirahim plants one hand on the ground, using the other to gather up both of their cocks, jerking them off together. Link groans at the sensation, tilting his hips up in a frantic need for pleasure. Ghirahim glares at him in response, though it doesn’t carry any threat.

It’s heavenly, it’s perfect. And yet…while Link doesn’t _need_ to be choked to get off, it’s what had started it all. And, well, he’s greedy, and he wants Ghirahim to control him in every way possible.

He reaches out and grabs at the hand Ghirahim has dug into the ground. With a grunt, he pulls it over to his throat, placing it there with a contented sigh. 

Shock takes over Ghirahim’s features once more, though he continues to jerk them off. He questions Link, “You still want that, even now?”  
  
Link nods his head. Emphasizing his conviction, he pushes Ghirahim’s hand further against his throat, holding it there with the perfect amount of pressure. 

Ghirahim looks down at him, his grin positively devious. He’s enjoying himself, face painted with pleasure and the deep sense of pride and content that comes with being in complete control.

The pace is brutal, unforgiving, but oh so good, much like everything else about Ghirahim. It’s so much that it’s almost _too_ much, but Ghirahim is so perfectly in control of them both that it never tips over that edge. Link is helpless to do anything but grunt and moan, letting out hoarse cries of Ghirahim’s name. Each time Link calls out for him, he’s rewarded with a tighter squeeze at his throat, encouraging him to say Ghirahim’s name even more, starting the cycle all over again.

He feels himself getting close, and Ghirahim must know too, based on the way Link’s cock twitches and his breath catches with each stroke of Ghirahim’s hand. Ghirahim bares down on him, not choking him to the point that he _truly_ struggles to breathe, but enough that all he can do is say his name in an endless mantra. The pressure is consistent, almost grounding, and it brings Link to orgasm almost as soon as it begins. 

Ghirahim holds him through his release, his grip slack enough to allow him to breathe without any restriction, but present enough to be grounding, comforting. 

Link has made both of them a mess, he’s sure, though can’t find it in himself to care. He’s just experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life, and he’d _finally_ gotten somewhere with Ghirahim, in terms of both lust and those softer feelings.

With a jolt, he realizes that Ghirahim is still hard, jerking himself off alone. Link grabs for his hand, stopping his movements. Ghirahim glares at him with more fire than he’s seen in a long time, but Link opens his mouth and lets out a few hoarse words, “Come down my throat.”

“Oh Link, don’t say such things unless you truly mean them,” Ghirahim’s words are sweet in his ear.

Link whispers in Ghirahim’s ear in turn, “I mean it.” Feeling bolder than normal, he nips at Ghirahim’s ear lobe, gripping his shoulders in an attempt to pull him closer.

Ghirahim is graceful as he makes his way up Link’s body. Link opens his mouth, proud of the way Ghirahim groans at the sight. He holds his mouth open wide and watches with rapt attention as Ghirahim jerks himself off, the head of his cock brushing against Link’s lips. 

He puts his tongue to good use, laving at the head and catching stray drops of precum—and that’s it. Ghirahim comes into his mouth, down his throat. Link swallows greedily, taking in as much cum as he’s able to, a few stray drops dribbling out of his mouth and down his face. Ghirahim pulls his dick away, and Link licks those drops up too, savoring every bit of Ghirahim that he can.

Suddenly, Ghirahim’s cock is replaced by his lips and _oh_ they’re kissing. Link hadn’t expected that, hadn’t expected Ghirahim to give into softness and hold him so tenderly, but he has no complaints.

Though he isn’t _quite_ as strong as the Demon Lord, his strength isn’t to be scoffed at, either. He uses it to his full advantage, pulling Ghirahim in closer, sinking into the warmth of the kiss. 

Ghirahim’s hand holds his throat, warm and without pressure. The kiss is warmer, but Link is greedy, so he gladly takes both.


	5. Sidlink - Role Reversal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hylian Sidon is based on [this](https://twitter.com/CanaryWitch/status/886791921292541952/photo/1) art by CanaryWitch, while Link has a more ambiguous design.  
> I realized partway into writing this that role reversal was probably meant to be in terms of top/bottom, not necessarily in terms of characters. But oh well, I did BOTH.  
> This is the longest one I've written now, hoo boy, but I do really love Sidlink.

The Hylian prince is charming and handsome—Link can’t help but be attracted to him, especially after their time spent together while calming the Hylians’ Divine Beast. 

It’s one thing to acknowledge his affections, and another to _do_ something about them. Link finds himself visiting Hyrule Castle more often than he really should, though he doesn’t try to court Sidon despite his instincts screaming at him to do so. He may be the Hero of Hyrule, but he’s also a common Zora who had been asleep for the last hundred years—what does he know of Hylian courting customs?

For months, things have carried on this way. Link spends as much time as he’s able at Hyrule Castle, hopelessly pining after Prince Sidon. The rest of his time is spent carefully planning and preparing to finally free Zora’s Domain from the scourge of Calamity Ganon. 

Eventually, he gets to a point where he can’t put off the fight any longer. Knowing this, knowing that he might not return…Link has to tell Sidon about his feelings.

The Sheikah Slate burns hot in his hands as he teleports to Saas Ko’sah Shrine. It’s buried in the depths of Hyrule Castle, so deep that he’s surprised to see someone waiting at the shrine’s entrance as he materializes. Link’s breath hitches at the sight of broad shoulders, tan skin, and long red and white hair. Prince Sidon is waiting for him.

Judging by the look on his face, Sidon somehow knows that Link intends to head for Zora’s Domain. His look of resigned acceptance tells him what words cannot, so different from his usual optimism.

With a tilt of his head and a wave of his hand, Sidon gestures for Link to follow him. Link obeys, easily falling into stride with him despite the prince’s greater height and longer legs. 

The silence between them is only broken by the metallic clinking of Link’s shield against his sword and the soft swish of fabric, though it isn’t uncomfortable. Though Sidon is often one for many words, they’ve spent enough time together that they can communicate with shared looks and body language alone. 

Link follows Sidon to his wing of the castle, grateful for the privacy that the prince’s personal quarters provide. When they arrive, Sidon holds the door open for him, and anxiety finally begins to gather in Link’s gut. 

They sit down on Sidon’s massive bed, legs crossed as they face one another. Still basking in warm silence, Link raises his hands to sign, but Sidon begins to speak just as he starts to form words with his hands.

“Link–” Sidon realizes his blunder immediately, golden eyes wide with an apology, “I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to speak over you. Please, go ahead.”

 _It’s okay. You can talk first,_ Link does his best to be reassuring, smiling wide to show off sharp teeth. 

Sidon’s eyes hold a silent question, an _Are you sure?_ that Link answers with a nod of his head. He’s a bit too enthusiastic, his head fins swaying with his movements, but he knows that Sidon doesn’t mind. 

A hearty chuckle shakes the bed, and Link is so glad to see Sidon shed some of his earlier worries. His voice is deep, calming, and Link finds himself sinking into Sidon’s every word, “Link, I know that you have to face the Calamity soon. As much as I wish I could, I know that I am unable to aid you in your task. Despite that, I want you to know that I will be supporting you with everything I have. I know that you will succeed.”

Link watches as Sidon swallows, the bump on his throat bobbing with the motion. Link finds it strangely attractive on Sidon, a feature that only Hylians seem to have.

“I have something important to tell you, before you go,” Sidon glances away now, his cheeks coloring red. Link still isn’t sure what it means, but he thinks ( _hopes_ ) that it’s the same for Hylians as it is for Zora. Reaching out, Link pokes at Sidon’s clothed thigh, seeking his attention so that he can sign. 

_I have something important to say, too,_ he’s surprised and grateful that his hands stay steady.

Sidon gestures invitingly at him, telling him to continue. Link gulps now, unsure of what exactly to say now that he’s been put on the spot.

His hands shake the slightest bit now, so he seeks out Sidon’s hands where they lay on the bed. He holds them briefly, squeezing them and memorizing their warmth, their softness, before attempting to sign again, _Sidon, I have feelings for you. Really strong ones…I don’t know how to say this, really…_

“I love you,” his voice is strained, quiet, but he knows Sidon hears him.

Link had expected the worst. He’d expected for his world to fall apart, for Sidon to push him away and never want to see him again. Instead, he’s met with one of Sidon’s bright, beaming smiles, but this time it seems warmer than ever. Something sparkles in his golden eyes, something soft and bright.

“Oh Link!” He exclaims, wrapping Link in a tight hug. Sidon leans in close, whispering into Link’s ear, “I’m so glad that you feel the same. I love you too, my treasure.”

Sidon pulls away from the hug, still gripping Link firmly by the shoulders. Despite his size and strength, he’s still gentle, his hold grounding. He lifts a hand to cup Link’s face, causing him to blush blue. Sidon gasps at the reaction, excited, and asks, “May I kiss you?”

Once again, Link’s head fins are sent flying as he nods vigorously. Sidon leans forward, pressing their lips together, and it’s so much better than Link could have imagined.

Soft lips move against his own, and Link moves a hand to tangle into Sidon’s long, red hair. He reaches to the back of his head, grabbing at the white strands there, and pulls him in closer, kissing him deeper. Sidon groans into his mouth, slipping his tongue over and past Link’s sharp teeth. 

Suddenly, Sidon pushes away, leaving them both panting for breath. Despite the distance, Link still clings to the ends of Sidon’s hair, reveling in the strange texture. It’s soft and smooth, and he can’t help but stroke his fingers along the strands, grateful that he’s finally able to touch it.

“I’m sorry for getting so carried away. It is unlike me to lose my composure like this, but you seem to have a knack for showing me sides of myself that I’ve never known before,” Sidon reaches out again, fingers softly stroking the fins that frame Link’s face. Link leans into the touch, seeking out more, wanting those soft hands to touch and explore every part of him. 

_It’s alright,_ he signs shakily with one hand, the other still occupied as it plays with Sidon’s long hair. He clears his throat, “I want you.”

Sidon flusters, his cheeks burning even brighter than before. Link finds him adorable yet still so handsome. Sidon tries to avert his eyes, but quickly moves them back to look at Link, their golden depths shining brightly with love and building lust, “Link, would you…want to be intimate with me?”

“Now?”

“Yes! Now, please,” Sidon sputters out, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears.

Link can’t help but chuckle. Sidon is adorable, and Link wants to _wreck_ him, though he doubts that that’s the direction their night will head in. Sidon’s eyes widen, seemingly panicked, and Link rushes to reassure him, “I’m sorry,” he starts, finally pulling his hand away from Sidon’s hair, continuing his words in sign, _I’m not laughing at your request. I just find it adorable that you’re so formal, even with this. You’re just so charming._

Sidon freezes, his entire body going stiff, and Link worries that his reassurance hadn’t been enough. 

“My answer is yes,” he says, attempting to ease Sidon’s racing thoughts. It works, as Sidon wraps him up in another hug, melting into Link’s embrace and shedding away his worries. Link leans in further, playing with Sidon’s hair with one hand and exploring the pointed tip of his ear with the other. Sidon is so beautiful, the most beautiful person he’s seen throughout all of Hyrule.

When Sidon pulls away, his blush is back in full force. Though his movements are no longer stiff or awkward, it’s clear that he’s flustered with anticipation for what’s to come. 

Neither of them know much about the other’s anatomy, so Link shouldn’t be surprised by any questions Sidon has. If anything, he’s eager to explore every part of Sidon, to figure out their differences and learn every part of his beautiful body. He’s just as eager to teach Sidon, to show him where he likes to be touched, to show him just how handsome a Zora can be. Despite his eagerness, he’s still caught off guard by Sidon’s question.

“So…where would I…?” He trails off before continuing, “Where would I penetrate you?” Sidon makes a suggestive gesture to accompany his words, as if they weren’t enough to get his meaning across. 

Link feels his cheeks heat up, this time in anticipation more than embarrassment. He can already feel himself growing hard, slickness pooling inside of him.

He’s gentle as he grabs Sidon’s hand, scooting forward on the bed so that they’re closer together. He guides Sidon’s hand between his legs, feeling his slit part with the touch. He lets out a breathy moan, gills fluttering at the feeling. Link pulls Sidon’s hand in closer, pressing the tips of his fingers the slightest bit inside of him, allowing them to get coated in his slick.

When he releases Sidon’s hand, it isn’t pulled away immediately. He seems fascinated as well as aroused, if the bulge in his white trousers is any indication. Sidon reaches his hand forward again, tentatively, and when Link nods his permission, he trails a finger down Link’s slit. The contact is heavenly, and Link rolls his hips the slightest bit forward, urging Sidon to press his finger inside. Sidon obeys his silent request, pressing in at the top and feeling around, poking and prodding in a clumsy manner that _really_ shouldn’t feel so good.

A gasp is torn out from him, and Link belatedly realizes that Sidon has found his cock. The prince smiles at him, sweetly, before stroking against the tip, his pace slow but his pressure firm. 

After thoroughly exploring Link’s sheath and stroking at his cock, Sidon finally withdraws his finger. It’s soaked in slick, and Link’s gills flutter in an unconscious display of arousal as Sidon licks his finger, seeming to savor the taste.

It would seem that the night is full of surprises, as Sidon’s next words are beyond unexpected, “I know that it’s a bit unorthodox…” He trails off, as if unsure how to voice whatever idea it is he has. Link is eager, willing, wanting to do anything that involves Sidon and pleasure for them both (though selfishly, there’s one thing he wants more than anything else). 

Sidon’s blush flares, ears twitching, and Link can’t help but reach out to touch them. He chances leaning in close, licking the tip of one and nibbling at it with sharp teeth, taking delight in the heavy moan that comes from Sidon. He pulls away with a kiss to Sidon’s jaw, encouraging him to continue speaking. 

“Would it be alright if I didn’t fuck you?”

Link is confused, and if he’s being honest, somewhat frustrated. Sidon has the right to say no at any time, of course, but somehow this doesn’t feel like an outright refusal, hence his conflicted feelings.

It takes a moment before it dawns on Link, his confusion and frustration rushing away in an instant. 

“Yes, yes of course. I want that too, Sidon, so badly,” Link rasps out, voice straining from arousal rather than disuse.

He _really_ wants to fuck Sidon. He hadn’t thought to ask, assuming that since Sidon is big and strong and a _prince_ that he wouldn’t consider anything but fucking Link. But this, _this_ is exactly what he’s wanted for so long, to hold his handsome prince in his arms and absolutely _ruin_ him for anyone else. 

Link may be smaller, but he’s certainly stronger than Sidon, and he aches to show his prince the true extent of his strength. 

As a Zora, Link doesn’t have much to take off other than his armor. He does so quickly, eagerness fueling his actions. Sidon, however, is covered in finery and complicated garments characteristic of royalty. Link is methodical as he undresses Sidon, taking in every part of his body as it’s slowly revealed.

Though Link has snuck Sidon out of the castle to swim plenty of times, and as such has already seen him partially unclothed, it isn’t until Link undresses him that he realizes just _how many_ freckles the prince has. They litter his tan skin, dusting across his handsome face and over every part of his body. There’s a smattering of them on the insides of his thighs, and Link is sure to give them special attention, laving the soft skin with licks and kisses.

He nearly takes Sidon apart with his touches. Link does more than take Sidon’s clothes off, exploring every part of him that he can get his hands on. Sidon is beautiful, he’d already known that, but seeing him like _this,_ laid bare just for Link to see… 

Nothing can compare to Sidon’s beauty.

Link is careful with his sharp teeth, though less careful when they kiss. Sidon seems to seek out the points with his tongue, and Link can’t deny that he likes it. He pauses his explorations every so often to give Sidon a kiss, which quickly turns into two and then many and then they’re tangled together with their tongues and lips making a mess of each other.

Finally, Link manages to rein in his focus, settling between Sidon’s legs. His cock, as tan as the rest of him, stands proudly between his legs, the flesh warm and hard beneath Link’s touch. He spends as much time there as he dares, eager to show Sidon pleasure but unwilling to let things end _too_ quickly. With a last kiss and suck at the head (Link loves the way Sidon’s hips try to push up into him, so _needy_ ), Link pulls away. 

It’s easy enough to coat his fingers in slick, with the way it’s practically pouring out of him. His cock has fully emerged by now, hard and aching, while the slick between his legs seems never-ending, eager to ease the way inside of Sidon.

He’s slow as he stretches Sidon open, teasing at his hole for quite awhile before pushing inside. He whispers soft words of encouragement to Sidon, who mewls and squirms beneath the praise. When Sidon’s hole flutters around his fingers, Link can’t help but moan, eager to feel the sensation around his cock. He buries his moans in the hard muscles and soft skin of Sidon’s thighs, sucking and nibbling at the freckles he finds there.

If Link had all the time in the world, it wouldn’t be enough. He fingers Sidon open for much longer than he needs to, enjoying bringing pleasure to the man he loves, taking satisfaction in the way he moans and moves beneath Link’s ministrations.

When he deems that Sidon is ready (beyond that point, really, but he’s nothing if not thorough), he makes his way up his long body, pulling him in for yet another kiss. He moves to Sidon’s ear, nibbling at the lobe, careful with his teeth. 

“Are you still alright with this?”  
  
Sidon surprises him by biting at one of his head fins in return, nibbling softly while using a hand to play with his head tail. Link sighs into the touches, melting into his prince, taking a moment to bask in the love and lust they’re both exuding. 

Finally, he pulls away from Sidon’s teeth, prompting him for his response.

“Please Link, I want you to have me,” Sidon’s voice is a whine, needy, and Link can’t say no to that, can he?

He teases the head of his cock across Sidon’s hole, slick abundant both inside of Sidon and himself. He’s slow as he pushes in, giving Sidon time to adjust. In that moment, he realizes that nothing else could ever compare to this. 

Sidon is perfect, squeezing so tightly around him it nearly hurts. He’s hot, warm, his insides already slick and wanting from Link’s preparation. Link holds back as he pushes inside, but he already feels the urge to make a mess of Sidon, to paint his insides with slick and cum as a reminder of his love.

When he’s fully seated, his pelvis pressed against Sidon, he takes a moment to breathe, panting with the effort of holding himself back from fucking into Sidon with wild abandon. 

He pulls Sidon’s legs up to wrap around his hips, making the angle better for them both. He thrusts his hips shallowly, testing the waters, as he nibbles at Sidon’s neck, hard enough to leave the sweetest of bruises. Sidon loves his teeth, it seems, as each time Link bites him, his prince leans into the contact, seeking out more. 

Satisfied with the marks he’s left on Sidon (for now), he pulls away from his neck and places a searing kiss on his full lips. 

Hurriedly, he pulls Sidon’s hair from its tie, allowing the length to spread out on the sheets beneath him. He makes quick work of burying a hand among the strands, alternating between stroking softly and pulling harshly, yanking Sidon closer into his embrace, forcing him to bare his neck, to voice his moans of approval loud enough that they may as well be screams.

Link finally sets a pace, thrusting in earnest rather than small back and forth motions, pulling at Sidon’s hair with each thrust inside. 

For a moment, he lets go of Sidon’s hair, using his hands to readjust Sidon’s legs around his hips. His claws press into Sidon’s thighs, leaving the slightest of indents and causing him to press his hips up into Link. Satisfied with the way they’re joined together, Link returns his hand to Sidon’s hair, continuing to pull and brush through it, using the other to toy with his nipples. 

He can see and _feel_ that Sidon is overwhelmed in the best of ways, his throat exposed for Link, his hips canting up into each thrust Link gives him. Sidon chokes out his name between moans, and Link knows that his prince is enjoying himself just as much as he is.

Finally, he thrusts at just the right angle, brushing past Sidon’s prostate, and they both see stars. Sidon clenches around him at the feeling, creating a slick squelching noise that’s even louder than the one that comes with each thrust of Link’s hips. 

Link repeats the process, setting a hard but steady pace, continuing to thrust into Sidon and pull at his hair while still kissing and nibbling at him. 

He knows Sidon well even like this, it seems, as he can feel him steadily losing himself in pleasure. Link pulls the hand that’s teasing at Sidon’s nipples away, hushing his whines with a soft kiss. He wraps his hand around Sidon’s cock, rubbing at the head before stroking him a few times. He returns to the head, repeating the process until Sidon’s back begins to bow, exposing his neck even further. 

His thrusts become frantic, now, losing any semblance of a consistent pace as Link finds himself nearing the edge as well, each thrust pushing him further. The squelching noise of Link’s cock pushing into Sidon’s hole, the fluttering squeezes of his rim, the warmth of his insides, the way he cries out and gives into Link so perfectly—it’s all so much.

Link bites at Sidon’s neck a final time, still not enough to draw blood but harder than before. Despite the haze of pleasure soaking through his mind, he manages to bite down just as he pushes against Sidon’s prostate, and that’s it for his prince. 

He’s barely able to take in the beautiful sight of Sidon’s orgasm before he’s coming himself. He gets glimpses of Sidon’s back bowing off the bed, his eyes clenched shut in pleasure while he howls out Link’s name. Link watches as his cock gushes cum, making a mess of his muscled abdomen, and it’s the sight of Sidon becoming such a _mess_ because of Link’s efforts that makes him come. 

A few sputtering thrusts of his hips accompany his orgasm, his cock twitching as he pumps cum inside of his prince, making even more of a mess of him. The idea, the _sight_ of Sidon, princely, proper _Sidon,_ falling apart because of Link bringing him such intense pleasure—it’s enough to make him want to come a second time.

Link stays inside of Sidon for longer than necessary, but he does eventually pull out. He watches as seed and slick gush out from Sidon, scooping some of it up and pushing it back inside. 

Sidon whines but still whispers his name, pleading “yes” over and over, and Link has to stop before he gets hard again.

Despite the mess on Sidon’s stomach, he lays on top of him, soaking up Sidon’s warmth. Though Sidon is all hard muscles and raw strength, he’s soft and warm as well, making him surprisingly comfortable to lay on. Link spends as much time pressed against him as he can before he _really_ needs to get up, allowing Sidon to clean them both.

When they’re both clean, Link lays on top of Sidon once more, this time wrapped up in silk sheets. Sidon is just as warm, and Link takes comfort in brushing through his long hair. He lays his head on the soft, freckled skin of Sidon’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. 

Sidon pulls him closer, wrapping strong arms around Link, gently caressing his head tail. Those strong arms pull him into sleep, calming every thought but one. 

As Link falls into sleep, he’s met with the knowledge that he’ll have no problem defeating the Calamity now that he knows Sidon loves him. 


	6. Ghiralink - Rimming

Ever since Link had been granted permission to build his own house (on a small island all to himself, no less), Ghirahim has been rather _insistent_ about spending more time together. Link doesn’t mind—he enjoys being around Ghirahim—but something about having his own home makes it different.

As great as it is to move out of his room at the academy, and as much as he enjoys having his own space, living with Fledge on the other side of the wall did have one benefit: Ghirahim had been much more reserved.

It only takes Link a few days of living in his new home to realize how bold Ghirahim has become. He knows that he’s always been that way, his personality brash and dramatic, but he’d toned it down while around the other citizens of Skyloft, especially in the space Link shared with Fledge. Now, on an island all to himself, Link is left to deal with the full extent of Ghirahim’s boldness on his own. 

Link doesn’t mind this change, not really, but he can’t say that he isn’t affected by it. 

Though Link had developed certain _feelings_ the first time he encountered Ghirahim (he suspects it’s the same for the Demon Lord, but Link knows he’s too stubborn to ever admit it), it isn’t until after the war that he’d finally been able to act on them. They’d entered a relationship as master and sword, and shortly after that they became lovers, the tensions between them running so high that it was inevitable, really.

They’ve been navigating their complex relationship for months now, finding soft moments among their playful bickering and intense training. Living at the academy, with Fledge on the other side of the partition, had severely limited their privacy, which is to say that they didn’t have sex very often.

Now, though… They live on an island all to themselves, in a house all their own. Link would never complain about the frequency of sex, loves it really, but the truth is that he flusters _incredibly_ easily, and Ghirahim is quick to take advantage of that, as well as his own assets. 

Ghirahim is painfully attractive, and he _knows it,_ which often makes living with him difficult. In the few days they’ve lived in their new home, Ghirahim has insisted that they _break in_ almost every surface imaginable, often multiple times (“Skychild, we must be sure that we’ve broken things in properly. We need to be thorough.”).

When he gives it enough thought, it isn’t _really_ a problem, but Link is admittedly embarrassed. He’s affected so easily by Ghirahim. Any time he says anything even remotely suggestive, Link goes beet red, blushing to the tips of his ears if what Ghirahim says is detailed enough, which it often is.

As much as Ghirahim initiates sex, Link accepts, making him just as lustful as the Demon Lord. This is what overwhelms him the most, especially when he considers how smug and in control Ghirahim is, while Link is left a flustered mess.

Link’s mind reels with all of his thoughts, the slightest blush present on his cheeks. It’s too early in the morning to be thinking such things; he’d much rather be sleeping. He grumbles softly when he stops thinking for long enough to realize that Ghirahim is already awake and out of bed. Instead of waking up how he does most mornings, with strong arms wrapped tightly around him, he’s left with an empty bed. Ghirahim indulges him by staying in bed most mornings, while others he gets up before Link, keeping busy as he sleeps. 

Not wanting to go back to sleep, Link stays in bed for a while longer, basking in the warm sunlight that filters in through the window. 

When he hears footsteps against their house’s wooden floors, he can’t help but smile softly. Ghirahim enters their bedroom, sighing exaggeratedly when he sees that Link is still wrapped up tightly in his blankets. 

A finger pokes at his cheek, and Link turns his head to nip playfully at it.

“My, my, Skychild, so feisty even this early? You’re truly _insatiable_ ,” his tone is playful but definitely cocky, and Link can’t help the way that he flushes and turns away, burying his head in a pillow.

He hates to admit it, but between the two of them, he’s definitely the one that would be considered “insatiable.” If he’s being perfectly honest, Link is downright _needy_ for Ghirahim, despite how flustered and worked up he gets. 

“Get up! We have errands to run, so for once you can’t sleep the day away,” Ghirahim’s tone carries a flash of irritation, and Link is grateful that his head is already buried in a pillow, the soft fabric muffling his chuckle. After all, it’s Ghirahim who keeps them in bed so often.

Though Link hadn’t been intending to go back to sleep, he’s stubborn, especially with Ghirahim. Instead of doing as he’s told and getting up, he pulls the blankets tighter around himself. 

Another dramatic sigh fills the air, before suddenly Ghirahim is straddling his back, leaning in close to whisper directly in Link’s ear. He rolls his hips once, but it’s enough for Link to feel hardness against his back. Fuck. Ghirahim flicks out his tongue, licking at his ear and causing it to twitch. Link does his best to nestle further into the pillow, but he’s unable to escape Ghirahim, who does his best to make his ears twitch even more. 

Ghirahim pulls back a fraction of an inch. It’s nowhere near enough, but Link can’t deny that he wants him closer. Ghirahim’s voice is rough and low, any trace of irritation long gone, replaced by huskiness, “I’ll make a wager with you, Skychild.”

He hesitates before answering, already knowing that he’ll give in to whatever it is Ghirahim asks of him, “...I’m listening.”

Hot breath ghosts across his ear as Ghirahim chuckles, and Link shudders in anticipation. He moves in again, lips ghosting over Link’s earlobe with each word, “So eager. Absolutely adorable,” another flick of his tongue against the tip, “If I can make you come with only my tongue, you have to get up. If you need more than that, I’ll let you sleep for another hour. Does that sound fair?”

It’s more than fair. Either way, Link gets to have a mind-blowing orgasm. Though he isn’t fond of making deals with Ghirahim (he almost always loses), he’s too stubborn to say no. They’re both stubborn like that, butting heads in a constant, often affectionate way that’s uniquely _them._

“Okay,” Link knows he’ll almost assuredly lose, but is it really losing? His voice is firm regardless. 

Ghirahim is strong as he turns Link over, pulling him away from the pillow. They share a kiss that starts soft but quickly grows heated, Ghirahim going out of his way to show Link just how talented his tongue is. 

Link tries to make the kiss last. He loves pressing their lips together more than anything else, but he can’t deny their mutual anticipation. 

Though he doesn’t spend _too_ much time focusing on his chest, Ghirahim is sure to tease Link’s nipples, wrapping his tongue around them and laving over their hardness. Link arcs into the sensation, the tiny grunts that spill out of his mouth punctuated by heavy breaths.

He isn’t wearing anything but a pair of boxer shorts. He prefers to sleep that way for comfort (Ghirahim sleeps in the nude, a fact that Link knows intimately well), but he has to admit that it makes morning sex remarkably easier.

It’s almost embarrassing how quickly he gets hard. Ghirahim teases him for it, of course, but he does tell Link that he loves how responsive he is and how only _he_ could make Link react in such a way. That makes all of the teasing worth it, and admittedly, causes him to grow harder, his dick twitching with interest.

Ghirahim takes off his boxers without much fanfare, much more eager to get at what the minimal clothing had been covering. 

Link expects Ghirahim’s tongue to tease across his head, maybe, or run down the shaft. He’s unpredictable, so Link isn’t sure where he’ll start licking.

He jolts when Ghirahim avoids his dick completely, using his long tongue to lick down the crease of Link’s ass. This…they haven’t done this before. Link expects it to be a one time thing, something meant to tease him, except oh no, Ghirahim licks across his taint a few times before focusing on his ass once more.

“Hey!” He grunts out as Ghirahim flicks his tongue against his hole. It’s a foreign sensation, definitely more than pleasant, but it’s so startlingly new that Link can’t help but cry out. Around clenched teeth, he voices his annoyance, “This isn’t really…fair.”

Ghirahim pulls away, and Link whines. He’s met with a knowing smirk, captivated as Ghirahim slowly drags his tongue across his lips, showing off its length and dexterity. He coos into the skin of Link’s inner thigh, “I said I would use my tongue and nothing else. I didn’t say _where_ I would use it. Maybe you shouldn’t make assumptions.”

The soft wetness of Ghirahim’s tongue trails across his thighs, teasing the sensitive skin. It’s good, but they both know that isn’t where Link wants to be licked. A soft kiss is placed on his thigh, before Ghirahim speaks again, “Is this alright with you, Link? I want to fuck you on my tongue.”

More licks are placed along his inner thighs, closer to his ass but still maintaining a respectful distance. Link can say no if he wants to. As strange as it is, the thought is exhilarating, arousing, and Link wouldn’t dream of denying Ghirahim or himself this new pleasure.

“Yes,” Link moans out, voice hoarse.

“Good,” Ghirahim whispers into his skin, licking across his hole once more. He stops, causing Link to whine again, “What do you say?”

“ _Please,_ ” he’s so desperate, so needy, that the word comes out as a high pitched keen. He whines, repeating his pleas over and over until Ghirahim licks at him again, finally using his tongue with fervor.

Oh, Link hadn’t been prepared for that. Ghirahim teasing him and Ghirahim getting serious are two _very_ different things. 

Ghirahim spreads his tongue flat and wide, licking across Link’s hole over and over. It’s so much, the strokes of his tongue all-consuming. Link squirms the smallest bit, but he doesn’t truly lose it until Ghirahim starts prodding at him with the tip of his tongue. It’s at that moment that Link realizes that being fucked by Ghirahim’s tongue means having it _inside of him,_ and all he can think about is how _long_ it is.

He feels Ghirahim smirk against his ass, and somehow Link knows that Ghirahim is aware of his realization. 

The teasing is ruthless. Ghirahim dips in the tiniest bit, but never more. Link wants him _inside,_ and he’s so close to just moving his hips and fucking himself on Ghirahim’s face. He knows better than that, as tempting as it is. As much as Ghirahim likes to tease him, once he begins to fuck Link with fervor, nothing will be able to compare. 

Finally, after so long spent experiencing agonizingly pleasurable teasing, Ghirahim gets serious. He pushes inside with his tongue, scratching gently at Link’s thighs in encouragement when he clenches down on the intrusion. He relaxes easily enough, and Ghirahim snakes more of his tongue inside. 

Link knows how long Ghirahim’s tongue is. He knows all too well how dextrous it is, too. And yet, as it’s worked slowly into his ass, it feels infinitely long, infinitely pleasurable, and he can’t get enough. 

A constant stream of moans spill from his lips, punctuated by breathy gasps. His chest heaves with how heavily he’s breathing. Spurred on by Link’s perfect sounds, Ghirahim continues to push inside of him. 

He reaches a hand down to grab at Ghirahim’s hair. He doesn’t mean to pull or tug, he only wants to feel the silky strands against his fingers, to touch whatever part of Ghirahim he can get at. He holds his hand out for a moment, giving Ghirahim time to pull away. He’s pleasantly surprised when soft hair brushes against his outstretched hand, Ghirahim having pushed his head up into Link’s touch himself.

His fingers clench involuntarily, though still gentle. He grounds himself with the softness of Ghirahim’s hair, such a contrast to the overwhelming pleasure provided by his tongue. 

Ghirahim’s tongue is finally inside of him, all of its squirming length teasing at his insides. It had taken longer than Link would have thought, but the process was too overwhelmingly pleasurable to care. 

As soon as Ghirahim’s lips are pressed flush to Link’s rim, he fucks into him with fervor. His tongue is relentless, caressing at Link’s insides, doing its best to find tiny, sensitive places that cause him to twitch. 

When Link clenches around him, Ghirahim moans, sending pleasant reverberations throughout his insides. It’s almost cyclical, Link’s clenching causing Ghirahim to moan, only for the process to start all over again. Ghirahim occasionally finds little spots that make his rim flutter in response, and that makes him scratch softly at Link’s thighs, a different kind of reward than his moans. 

It’s overwhelming in the best of ways. Ghirahim takes his time with him, thoroughly exploring every bit of his insides, the length of his tongue aiding him. Link feels like Ghirahim is avoiding his prostate on purpose as he pokes and prods everywhere else, but it feels too good to whine. 

Eventually, finally, Ghirahim brushes past his prostate with a fleeting lick. His tongue is barely there before it’s gone, and Link cries out, canting his hips the slightest bit, his hand stroking fervently at Ghirahim’s soft hair. 

A moment later, Ghirahim does it again. He strays away with his ministrations before returning to brush teasingly at Link’s prostate, over and over. Each time, less and less time goes by before he returns to the spot Link wants him most, until finally, Ghirahim’s tongue is fixated solely on his prostate. 

Link cries out in a needy moan, voice cracking with the volume. Ghirahim had gone from teasing to relentless in a matter of seconds, now placing firm, wide licks over the most sensitive part of him. 

His free hand is fisted in his sheets, the hand tangled in Ghirahim’s hair frantically stroking at the soft strands. He’s going wild, and he knows Ghirahim isn’t done with him yet. 

In another change of pace, Ghirahim becomes absolutely ruthless, pressing his tongue firmly into Link’s prostate. He licks across it over and over, utilizing his tongue’s length and dexterity to pleasure Link in ways he hadn’t thought possible. He can feel himself getting close, his cock now twitching with every press of Ghirahim’s tongue into his prostate. 

With a final press of Ghirahim’s tongue, wider and with more pressure than ever before, Link is sent over the edge. 

His orgasm feels explosive, the way it tears through him. He vaguely registers Ghirahim moaning, his hole fluttering around his tongue as he comes. His cock comes completely untouched, something he hadn’t thought possible. 

For the briefest of moments, he sees nothing but white, before he sees even more white, except there’s purple and gray there too. Ghirahim’s face hovers over his own, bringing him down while watching just how mind-blowing Link’s orgasm had been. 

He’s needy again as he leans up for a kiss, but Ghirahim indulges him. It stays soft, surprisingly, but Ghirahim does _not,_ pulling away to gloat into his ear, “I won our bet, time to get out of bed Link.”

Link whines and complains, but he manages to convince Ghirahim to stay in bed just a bit longer, eager to suck him off. Ghirahim is dramatic, making a show of staying in bed, but they’re both eager to put Link’s mouth to good use. 

Their new home is a blessing in disguise. They have sex much more often, which Link would never complain about. Each time Link accepts Ghirahim’s proposals, it’s easier to admit to himself that he’s just as (if not more so) needy and insatiable as Ghirahim. They’ll have to have sex many, _many_ more times (the amount is truly immesurable), just to be sure.


	7. Sidlink - Tentacles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I may have taken some liberties with the whole "tentacles" thing and instead turned it into Sidon has tentacle dicks. You're welcome.

Being of two completely different races, they’re obviously going to have some physical differences. The first time Link had sex with Sidon, nothing could have prepared him for how extreme those differences are. He’d realized almost immediately that he loves Sidon even more because of them, and he can’t deny that their chemistry is just as strong sexually as it is with romance. 

Prince Sidon of the Zora people has two cocks. And really, they’re closer to tentacles than what comes to mind when Link hears the word “penis,” but they’re functionally the same. Their relationship is meaningful beyond sex, obviously, but the sex is _good,_ mind-blowing even, and it only reinforces how much Link loves his prince. 

Link loves every part of Sidon, especially his prehensile cocks. 

He doesn’t visit Zora’s Domain as much as he’d like to. He’s kept busy helping Zelda rebuild Hyrule, and while he’s happy to help, he wishes for more time away from the endless ruins. Despite it all, he still finds time to visit the Domain at least once a week, the Sheikah Slate making travel much more convenient. 

Whenever he teleports to Ne’ez Yohma shrine, Sidon finds him so quickly that Link suspects he’s assigned one of the poor guards to watch for his arrival. He’s always greeted by a hug and a kiss, though Link is insistent and often convinces Sidon to sneak off with him right away. 

It’s one such day in which he’s found himself with time to spare, so he makes quick work of teleporting to the Domain before Zelda is able to track him down and saddle him with more things to do. 

Though he expects to be swept up into Sidon’s arms, it doesn’t stop him from laughing and becoming giddy. His heart pounds loud in his ears, and Link leans in for a kiss, held up by Sidon’s strong arms. 

Sidon is the first to pull away, as is usual when they’re around others, clearing his throat and mumbling something about what is and isn’t proper in public. Link hadn’t thought they’d grown _that_ heated, but Sidon’s embarrassment is an easy excuse to drag him away to somewhere more private. 

Link knows the layout of the palace like the back of his hand by now, so it’s easy enough to lead Sidon through the winding hallways toward his prince’s personal quarters. Though he’s barely half the size of Sidon, his eagerness puts such a bounce in his step that he has to practically drag his prince behind him. He’s incredibly eager to show Sidon just _how much_ he’s missed him, and there’s no shame in that. 

It’s easy enough to push Sidon up against the door as soon as it’s shut behind them, but Link has to whine indignantly before Sidon picks him up so that they can kiss more easily. Sidon’s hands roam, of course, groping at his ass in a way that’s somehow rough and gentle at the same time. 

The bed in Sidon’s room is _massive,_ and Link chuckles each time he sees it. Sidon flushes blue, predictably, but Link still kisses his blushing cheeks, finding his reactions absolutely adorable. 

King Dorephan had let it slip that Sidon had asked for the bed _immediately_ after they started courting, a fact that Link still finds as hilarious as it is endearing. He’s sure to soothe Sidon through his soft laughter, getting his prince to laugh along with him. 

Soon enough, Link is pushed into the plushness of the bed, sinking into its comfort without complaint. His laughter is quickly replaced by quick, sharp moans as Sidon licks and kisses at his neck, occasionally scraping his teeth over scarred skin. His movements are a bit awkward, Link’s blue tunic getting in the way of his mouth. Admittedly Link enjoys it when Sidon has to work to get beneath his clothing. 

After listening to a bit too many frustrated growls, Link removes his tunic himself, teasing Sidon along the way. He could have undressed Link on his own, but had stubbornly chosen to struggle to get at Link’s soft skin. 

Link removes Sidon’s adornments as soon as he tosses his tunic aside, quick to kiss the bits of flesh that are revealed. Sidon is responsive as ever, needy for any and every touch that Link gives him. Link shoves off his boots, but the look he gives Sidon makes it clear that he won’t be removing his pants himself. 

Sidon gulps, pupils blowing out for just a moment before returning back to dark slivers among gold. Link allows himself to be pushed further into the bed, sinking into Sidon’s touches. Sidon’s tongue is _long_ and the slightest bit rough, and he puts it to good work by toying with Link’s nipples

He pushes his chest up into Sidon, seeking more contact, more pleasure. It’s quiet between them other than heavy breathing and Link’s moans and grunts, but they don’t need words to communicate, not yet.

Finally, Sidon starts to fiddle with the button on Link’s trousers, tongue ghosting against an exposed hip. He looks up at Link, a question in his eyes that’s more of a plea than anything else. 

Link is quick to nod his permission, whispering a soft “yes” to finally break the silence between them. 

His pants are pulled off without the slightest hesitation. Instead of going for his compression shorts right away, Sidon ghosts his mouth over Link’s clothed cock. It feels way too good, and Link can’t help but thrust his hips up toward Sidon’s mouth. Sidon is indulgent, willing to do _anything_ for his pearl, so he allows Link to grind up against the wet heat of his mouth. 

Though they’re both growing impatient, Link snaps first. He grabs at Sidon’s crest with one hand, fingers fluttering across the sensitive skin. With the other hand, he pushes uselessly at his shorts. Sidon takes the hint easily enough, peeling off the tight fabric slower than necessary. 

He fixates on the way it peels away from Link’s skin, revealing soft, scarred flesh. Sidon savors the sight of Link’s already leaking cock, his tight ass, and the soft thickness of his strong thighs. Link is a lethal creature, both sexually and in battle, though Sidon is currently much more interested in the more _carnal_ applications of his strength.

Calloused fingers brush at his crest again, a cry for attention, and Sidon looks up to meet Link’s eyes. Link begs for a kiss, so he obliges, making his way up Link’s body to give him what they both crave. 

Link uses their new position to his advantage, arm straining to reach Sidon’s slit while his mouth is stuffed full of his prince’s tongue. When he first touches at Sidon’s leaking slit, his prince jolts, moaning into Link’s mouth. Link coaxes at his hip, guiding Sidon to angle his hips in a way that makes it less difficult to reach where he wants to touch him most. 

Unsurprisingly, it doesn’t take much teasing at Sidon’s slit—running his finger up and down and dipping inside—before his cocks emerge to push into Link’s hand. They wrap around his hand in a way that would be almost _cute_ if it weren’t so damn sexy. 

Using strength that arouses Sidon beyond belief, Link pushes them both to their sides, laying down to face one another. He scoots across the bed until his shoulders are pressed into Sidon’s toned chest, slotting his hips up to his prince’s. 

They’ve done this enough times for Sidon to know what to do now. His cocks seem to have a mind of their own when they’re around Link, eagerly grabbing at his shaft and wrapping around it. One teases at the tip, causing Link to let out an endless string of moans and pleas, biting heartily at his chest. 

The other reaches back to tease at Link’s hole when the first eases up on the head, though it stays mostly focused on wrapping around Link, jerking them both off in a slick, heated mess. 

Link comes quickly, spurred on by overwhelming pleasure. The incessant writhing and squeezing of Sidon’s cocks has him hard again quickly; Link’s stamina is beyond impressive. They seek out the cum that coats his stomach, making even more of a mess of them both. Cum and slick alike covers their cocks, and Link moans at the sight, at the way Sidon moves so perfectly around him. 

“Can I fuck you, Link?” Sidon’s voice is quiet with need, one of his cocks petting at his ass cheeks but giving him the time and space to give his answer. 

“Yes, yes,” he whines out, biting harshly at Sidon’s chest before making his own demand, “But stay like this, hold me like this.”

Sidon obliges him, of course. He’d find a way to bring him the moon if Link asked for it. As in love with Sidon’s sweetness as he is, his thoughts are easily pulled away from such softness. Sidon begins to whisper into his ear, telling him all sorts of sensual, heated things that have his cock twitching in Sidon’s hold. Sidon’s cocks are eager for the response, both of them squeezing and fluttering around him in an attempt to get him to twitch again. 

Link cries out. It feels so good, but he’s going to end up coming again before Sidon fucks him if he keeps touching him like that. He grabs at one of Sidon’s cocks, unwrapping it from his own. He laughs and squeezes it roughly when it coils around his hand, guiding it toward his hole. 

Their differences work in their favor, as Sidon’s cocks are tapered and flexible. At the tip, they’re about as wide as one of Link’s fingers. That, coupled with the copious amount of slick they’re coated in, means that unless Link plans to take both, he doesn’t need any preparation, the tapered length easing the way. 

It’s easy enough to sling a leg up onto Sidon’s hip, spreading his legs as wide as he can while laying on his side. It’ll make the angle heavenly, this he knows from experience. 

With enough guidance from Link, Sidon finally directs his cock to tease at his hole, the other still heartily writhing and grasping at Link’s shaft. Occasionally, it toys with the head, teasing and squeezing until Link thrusts his hips up into the contact. He’s kept so occupied by the stimulation that he doesn’t realize Sidon’s other cock is is prodding at his hole until the tip has pushed inside. 

Much like a finger might, the tip of Sidon’s cock prods inside of him, moving around to stroke his insides. It stretches him thoroughly, movements frantic though still somehow coordinated. 

When Link cants his hips downward, pushing further onto Sidon’s tentacle-like cock, his prince gets the hint. Link is ready for more, it seems, so he begins to ease more of himself into his tight heat. It’s heavenly for them both, the movement of Sidon’s cocks enough to send Link over the edge, though he doesn’t let himself come just yet. 

Experimentally, Link clenches down on Sidon’s cock, moaning and nearly yelping when it pulses in return, stroking fervently at his walls. 

Slowly, with the aid of Sidon’s slick, they both ease Link down further, each inch of increasing thickness so much that he could scream out his pleasure. As more of Sidon’s cock is fed into him, it doesn’t stop its movements, still eager to writhe about inside of him, occasionally teasing at his prostate but staying away for the most part. Link knows that Sidon likes to make him wait to take all of him before he’ll pleasure him there, but his patience is growing thin. 

Finally, Link grips his leg harshly around Sidon’s hip, using his own strength to push himself fully onto Sidon’s cock. The one outside of him goes crazy now, twisting and writhing around Link with a wildness he finds himself craving more of. 

He pushes off with his leg once more, pushing up and then slamming back down, cramming Sidon back inside of him. The cock inside of him starts to go wild as well, clinging to Link wherever it can each time he pulls away. 

Mind too far gone to coordinate his thrusts, Link lets Sidon take over, allowing his cock to press in and out of Link without the need to thrust his hips. 

Now, movements wild, Sidon finally presses against his prostate, the tip of his cock stroking it when he pulls out, while the wide girth of the base presses ruthlessly against it when he slams back inside. That, coupled with the cock writhing and squirming around his own, is too much for Link to take for very long. 

He hangs on for as long as he can, stubborn as ever, but with the wildness of Sidon’s movements, all it takes is a well-timed thrust to send him over the edge.

Link is a mess, moaning and begging, unable to say anything but Sidon’s name. He closes his eyes into the pleasure, unable to register anything but the way his toes curl with the intensity of his orgasm. 

A third orgasm is nearly wrenched out of him when he feels Sidon come inside of him and across his twitching cock, making even more of a mess. Link loves it, loves the mess, loves the feeling of Sidon claiming him in such a raw, _primal_ way. With one last brush against his prostate, causing his hole to flutter weakly, Sidon pulls away with both of his cocks. Link doesn’t watch them slip back inside of Sidon, too overwhelmed by the intensity of his waning orgasm to do anything but feel the warmth Sidon has left behind. 

Though his stamina is exceptional, Link tends to get sleepy after sex. Part of it, he’s sure, is Sidon’s easy willingness to take care of him. Sidon is always gentle as he gathers Link in his arms and brings him to his sleeping pool to wash off. Link misses the feeling of being covered in Sidon’s slick and both of their cum, but he knows that if he leaves it for too long, he’ll regret it. 

He allows Sidon to clean him up. Sidon surprises him by taking the time to wash his hair, an extra treat that’s more common than not but still pleasant. His claws feel heavenly as they scratch gently at Link’s scalp, and he leans into Sidon with each touch.

They share quite a few kisses, some bordering on heated, but all of them soft. Usually, Link would be content to sleep with Sidon in the water, but tonight he wants to hold him among the blankets of their bed. Sidon makes quick work of stripping the soiled top sheet before settling Link gently on the bed.

Though Link enjoys being taken care of, he also loves taking care of Sidon. It’s more than natural to settle in behind his prince, tangling their legs together and pressing soft kisses into his back. He can’t quite reach his mouth for a _real_ kiss, but being able to hold his prince and keep them both safe, wrapped up in his arms, is enough. 

Whispered “I love you”s fill the air between them, until Sidon drifts off into sleep.

Their physical differences couldn’t be any more apparent than when they have sex. Despite those differences, in moments like this where Link holds Sidon in his arms and they fit together so perfectly, he knows they’re made for each other. With a soft smile on his face, Link falls asleep surrounded in warmth and love. 


	8. Ghiralink - Spanking

Link is _exhausted._ Ghirahim has been making him train for what feels like hours now. His stamina potions are out of reach, and Ghirahim won’t let him use them, anyway, so he’s forced to push through and continue fighting. 

Another series of daggers is sent rushing toward him. Still unused to Ghirahim’s larger, two-handed sword, he fumbles through his movements as he slashes them out of the air. The daggers shatter away as soon as the blade makes contact, but Link overextends his swing, this new sword much heavier than what he’s used to. He tries to correct his mistake, but his foot slips and the sword continues its momentum as he stumbles, swinging a few feet forward through the air and clattering to the ground with a loud _clang._

The noise hurts his ears, echoing loudly on the stone floor of Skyloft Temple. In the brief time Link and Ghirahim have come together as master and sword, Ghirahim has insisted that they train at the temple. It’s close enough to Link’s home in Faron Woods that he has no room to complain. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by Ghirahim’s dark chuckle, and while the demon is usually quite the dominant figure, Link hasn’t heard him laugh like _that_ since they were enemies. 

“You dare disrespect my sword in such a way?” Ghirahim flashes forward, grabbing Link harshly by the wrist, “These hands are barely worthy of _touching_ me, yet you throw away my blade the first chance you get.”

Link is frozen in place, unsure of how to react. Ghirahim is volatile, and while he isn’t normally violent, Link can never be sure what the Demon Lord will do. 

“I think that you deserve to be _punished,_ don’t you, Skychild? Showing me such disrespect is unforgivable otherwise,” Ghirahim whispers into his ear, and Link fights to keep still. 

Ghirahim backs away, and Link lets out a sigh of relief. He doesn’t want to train any more, but he knows from experience that he’s in store for at least an hour’s worth of merciless drills, and this time he’s sure they’ll be _without_ the sword. Ghirahim’s punishments are harsh, but he can’t say they haven’t been helpful. As difficult as his training is, Link can’t deny that he’s become a better swordsman in the weeks they’ve spent together, despite his struggles to wield Ghirahim’s blade. 

His relief is short lived. As soon as he relaxes and takes a deep inhale, Ghirahim is upon him once more, closer than before. He pulls Link harshly into his embrace, and with a sound like shattering glass, they’re whisked away by flashing diamonds. 

Link’s breath is knocked away as he lands harshly on his bed. Confusion sets in immediately. Ghirahim’s punishment should be more training, harsher drills, his muscles screaming at him as he’s pushed to do more. This…this is not that. 

Another dark chuckle fills the small bedroom, and Link feels trapped. Ghirahim leers down at him sprawled gracelessly across the bed. His gaze burns through Link, pinning him down so that he’s unable to move under its intensity. His breath is stolen away once more by the snap of Ghirahim’s fingers, piercing through the air. In an instant, his clothes are gone, and _oh,_ this definitely isn’t the kind of punishment he’d been expecting. 

It isn’t like they haven’t been having sex in the few weeks they’ve been reunited. Link had been unable to deny the feelings he’d developed for Ghirahim during the war, so finding him again had caused them to boil over. He knows that Ghirahim feels the same, though getting him to admit it had been more difficult than conquering the Silent Realms. So no, Link isn’t surprised that Ghirahim is initiating sex, but he’s _definitely_ caught off guard, considering he’d expected something completely different when he heard the word “punishment.”

Ghirahim moves to sit on the bed, graceful as ever. He raises his arms up, always one for dramatics, his mantle fading away with the gesture. His gaze doesn’t leave Link as he settles with his back against the headboard, pulling at Link so that he’s laying across his lap, his ass bare and on display. 

Link shivers as a gloved hand trails over his ass with a gentle firmness he knows won’t last long. Ghirahim opts to remove his gloves without magic, causing Link’s anticipation to build, his ears twitching with the sounds of rustling fabric. 

Warm hands touch him now, the touches firmer but still not as harsh as he’d expected. Experimentally, he tries to wiggle in Ghirahim’s hold, but the press of Ghirahim’s claws against his skin is enough of a warning for him to still his movements.

“I’m still going to punish you, but if you don’t want it to be like this, you need to tell me,” Ghirahim pauses, grabs a handful of Link’s ass, then continues, “Tell me how much you want me to punish you, Link, and I’ll consider forgiving you once I’ve finished with you.” 

With that, Link’s cock twitches to life. He bites his lip to hold in a whine, letting go when he knows that only words will come out, “Please, Ghirahim. I need you to punish me, put me in my place.” He rolls his hips against Ghirahim’s thighs, his cock already starting to grow hard. He knows being cheeky won’t help him, but he’s a glutton for this type of rough treatment.

A growl rings out, and Ghirahim’s claws dig in at his hips now, forcing Link to stop his movements. 

“I’m going to spank this pretty little ass of yours,” he gropes at it, gentleness long gone, “Until it’s sore and red. You aren’t going to come until I allow you to. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes Ghirahim,” he answers without a moment’s hesitation, a moan spilling out of his mouth along with Ghirahim’s name. A shudder of anticipation dances down his body, Ghirahim chuckling in response.

Warm hands stroke at his ass, groping and petting at its generousness, at soft skin. The anticipation is somehow worse than being punished. 

Ghirahim moves suddenly, bringing a hand down sharply to slap at Link’s right ass cheek. He cries out, voice loud, sinking into Ghirahim’s touch as he massages at the tender skin, voice low and soft. It isn’t a trick, or at least it isn’t intended to be, but the comfort is such a harsh contrast to the next slap. Ghirahim brings his hand down again, spanking the same place. Link nearly spasms, body moving out of his control, his cock now so hard it almost hurts. 

His breaths are deep, punctuated occasionally by a short, breathy inhale. Ghirahim soothes him briefly before spanking him again, this time focusing on his left ass cheek. 

The groping is rougher now, Ghirahim still soothing him by rubbing his sore skin, but grabbing and squeezing at Link’s ass along with the softness. Without warning, another smack comes down, on the left side once more, and it takes everything Link has not to grind his hips forward into the hard muscles of Ghirahim’s thighs.

Each time Ghirahim spanks him, the _smack_ of flesh against flesh resounds into the air. It’s heavenly in the strangest way, a painful sort of pleasure that Link can’t get enough of. 

Soon enough, he’s arching into the air, presenting his ass to Ghirahim for yet another spanking. He flinches now with each smack, his ass quickly growing sore and sensitive, but it doesn’t stop him from seeking out more contact, more attention and touches from Ghirahim, no matter how rough they may be.

“I think you might like this a bit too much. This is supposed to be a punishment, you know,” Ghirahim muses aloud, smacking Link once more. 

He’s desperate beyond coherent words, so instead he moans louder. Despite the pain (because of it, really), he finds so much pleasure. Ghirahim is right. Link is quickly realizing that he’s a glutton for this particular form of punishment, for Ghirahim himself.

The right side of his ass stings with the force of another harsh smack. Ghirahim doesn’t soothe him this time before moving to the left side, leaving another stinging spank. Link can’t see it, but he’s sure his ass is red by now, the skin sensitive to even the lightest of touches. 

Ghirahim trails a finger across the soft skin, testing how sensitive Link is. Link flinches, writhing about in an attempt to move away, to move closer. He’s getting close, now, his cock twitching each time Ghirahim smacks him. 

Another particularly harsh smack has precum dribbling out of his cock, soaking the sheets beneath him. A hand tangles in his hair, pulling him up sharply to meet Ghirahim’s eyes. A fire burns bright in gray depths, fueled by endless lust and control, “Remember, Link, you aren’t allowed to come until I give you permission.”

His hair is released and Link slumps back down against the bed. His whines and cries are even louder now, breathing labored. Another smack against his ass has him twitching again, but it’s the follow-up that nearly has him coming. Ghirahim brings down both of his hands at once, and it takes every fiber of Link’s being to keep his orgasm at bay. 

More now than ever, Ghirahim is soothing, whispering soft praises into the air He grabs and squeezes at Link’s ass, but no more smacks come. Link isn’t sure if he should be disappointed or relieved, but his indecision quickly fades away, his thoughts completely occupied by Ghirahim reaching for his cock. 

“Come for me, Link,” Ghirahim leans down to whisper near his ear, his hand moving frantically up and down Link’s cock, movements noisy with the sound of squelching precum. 

Link comes with a roar, a scream, incomprehensible strings of words and sounds falling from his lips, one word repeated more than the others, like a mantra: “Ghirahim, Ghirahim, Ghirahim…” 

He lays there in overwhelmed bliss for what feels like an eternity. Ghirahim is gentle, now, warm hands soothing at Link’s tender, sensitive flesh. He tells Link how pretty and red his ass is, how perfect he is, how he takes punishment so well. His hands are gentle; the few times he brushes past a particularly sore spot, Link flinching away, he’s quick to move on while whispering more encouragement to Link. 

Finally, he’s able to sit, Ghirahim helping to pull him up. He sits on Ghirahim’s lap properly now, ignoring the tenderness of his ass as he basks in the demon’s warmth. He’s pulled into a kiss and Link is willing, pliant, so happy to kiss his lover. 

Surprisingly, the kiss remains soft, but Link does not. He pulls away, fiddling idly with the earring that hangs from Ghirahim’s ear. He leans in, tone sultry as he asks, “Am I forgiven yet?”  
  
Ghirahim’s dark chuckle is back, and Link’s ears twitch in response. 

“Why don’t you make me come, and we’ll see how I feel about it then, hmm?” Ghirahim is gentle even as he grinds up against Link, careful with his sore ass. Despite the gentleness, Link can tell he’s achingly hard, though he’d felt Ghirahim pressing into his stomach throughout his punishment, a temptation he’d been denied until now. 

Link is eager to agree, and Ghirahim is just as eager to forgive him once Link has put his mouth to good use.


	9. Midzel - Strap On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First time writing Midzel, first time writing femslash at all. I've wanted to write femslash for so long, especially these two. So glad I finally got around to it.  
> Softer than usual this time around, but I think softness really suits them.

When Midna shows her the strange device, Zelda isn’t sure what to make of it. It’s undeniably phallic in shape, so she can guess at its purpose easily enough.

Midna chuckles in Zelda’s ear, holding her from behind as they sit on their bed. The object is black, though swirling designs of teal light pulse across its surface. It’s undeniably of Twili design. Connected to it is a leather harness of some sort. The scholar in Zelda pushes her to analyze the device, to figure out everything about it, but she knows it has a specific purpose. 

“You’re going to have to help me figure out how to put this thing on, if you want me to use it,” her words are quiet, answered by a kiss at her ear. 

Zelda turns around then, sitting on Midna’s lap like a throne. She pulls her lover into a kiss, savoring the way Midna teases her with her tongue. It’s soft but quickly grows heated, Midna delving into her mouth as much as Zelda pushes back. Though Midna is more forward and often more sultry, it’s usually Zelda who takes charge in situations like this. 

It’s nearly painful to pull away from their kiss, but she needs to figure out how to get this thing on if they’re going to use it.

They’re hardly clothed, ready for sleep but easily tempted toward something better. Zelda reaches for the strap of her nightgown, but Midna snaps her fingers before she can take it off on her own, vanishing the garment away with magic. Zelda isn’t sure if she should be grateful or annoyed at Midna’s cheeky behavior, so she settles on pulling her in for a kiss that _should_ be heated, but doesn’t quite get there. She bites at Midna’s lip before pulling away with a tiny grin. 

She grabs at Midna’s hands, bringing them to the device as a reminder. 

Midna blinks, hands tensing around the device in recognition. When she speaks, her words come out in that low tone of voice she only uses in situations like this, “Of course. I’d be honored to put it on for you.”

With a smirk, Midna pushes Zelda back to lay against the bed. She doesn’t think to protest, though she is caught off guard by Midna’s sudden assertiveness. Zelda is completely naked, a fact that Midna takes advantage of as she gropes at her breasts, quickly moving on to her hips. 

Impish as ever, Midna grins up at her before teasing at her clit. A small moan is pulled out from Zelda before she collects herself and glares indignantly down at Midna. As lovely as this is, she’ll get distracted quickly if Midna doesn’t do what she’s _supposed_ to do. 

Soft hands stroke across her hips, over the plush skin of her thighs. Zelda melts into the gentle touches, savoring every brush of Midna’s fingers against her skin. She tilts her hips upward, presenting herself as a reminder of what Midna is meant to be doing. Midna huffs playfully, but stops caressing Zelda in favor of grabbing for the device. 

“You know this is called a strap-on, right?” Midna asks. 

Zelda hadn’t known, but the name makes sense. Midna brings the harness to frame her hips, slowly wrapping it around her. One of the leather belts wraps around her midsection, resting between her waist and hips. There are two other straps that Midna wraps around her legs. When they’re on and pulled tight, they frame Zelda’s ass in a way that’s strange but definitely not unpleasant. 

The weight of the artificial phallus between her legs is certainly different, but Zelda adjusts quickly enough. It takes her no time at all to decide what to do with Midna. 

“You play at taking charge so often, so I think you should work a bit for your pleasure, don’t you?” Zelda’s voice is lower than before, arousal tainting her words. 

She watches as Midna visibly gulps, but then a grin spreads across her face. Midna is an enigma, really—cheeky and a handful, but always willing to do what Zelda asks of her. She moves to prop herself up against the wall, cushioned by pillows, before patting at her thighs, making her intentions clear. 

“Are you still alright with this?” Midna asks, as if she isn’t the one who’s about to be fucked. Zelda smiles, nodding anyway, a soft “yes” falling from her lips.

Midna’s thighs are stronger, thicker than her own, and it feels so heavenly to have them wrap around her hips and press against her. If she hadn’t already brought Midna to orgasm, if she hadn’t already carefully fingered her open, she’d consider more preparation. 

Having already come three times, Zelda figures that Midna will be more than wet enough. 

Her hands grasp at Midna’s hips, laving across black and teal skin. The colors have slightly different textures, but they’re both soft, both _Midna,_ and she loves it all. With a gentle pull, she urges Midna up from her seated position, guiding her to sink down onto the shaft between her legs. 

Though Zelda doesn’t feel any sensation from the strap-on, watching Midna writhe as she sinks onto its length is pleasure enough. Midna’s lips are parted in a permanent whine, her hair messy across her shoulders. Zelda keeps her hands on her hips, steadying Midna as she takes more and more of the shaft inside of her. When Zelda listens carefully, she can hear the way Midna’s wetness squelches against the toy, the sound too heavenly to describe with words. 

Finally, Midna is fully seated, her weight comforting against Zelda. It’s Midna who sits on a throne now, one made from pleasure and the softness of their love. 

Rather than trying to push Midna toward an orgasm, to bring her to the edge and over, Zelda allows her to bask in the simple pleasure of penetration. There’s no rush, no urgency. It’s enthralling to watch Midna slowly fall apart. 

Midna braces her hands on Zelda’s shoulders to push herself up and off of the toy, letting it nearly slip out of her before sinking back down. Her movements are slow, exploratory, as she basks in the slow drag of the toy as it pushes inside of her. Zelda keeps her hands at Midna’s hips, occasionally moving them to grab greedy handfuls of her breasts, teasing at her nipples. 

She wants to kiss Midna, but she’s so captivated by the sight of her that she’s frozen in place. 

Zelda watches as Midna slowly picks up speed, grip harsh against Zelda’s shoulders. Midna pushes up, this time letting herself drop back down onto the shaft, rather than gradually lowering herself onto it. She shrieks with pleasure before repeating the motion again and again. 

As Zelda had predicted, Midna tires relatively quickly. She’s an adept lover, more than capable of bringing them both pleasure, but riding Zelda like this is new, different, and surely tiring. 

She asks Midna her permission before changing their positions, pushing Midna to lay down on her back, head cushioned by a soft pillow. 

Zelda grabs at Midna’s thighs, wrapping them loosely around her hips. She angles Midna’s hips up to meet her where she’s situated on her knees, the angle easier for them both. It takes more than one try to push inside of Midna, the feeling incredibly foreign, but they both laugh sweetly, sharing a kiss through their laughter. 

It’s easy enough to pick back up at the pace Midna had tired at. She’d done her share of the work, and Zelda is eager to take over.

Unlike before, Zelda fucks Midna with intent. She wants her to come now, for their joint efforts to pay off. She knows the penetration alone won’t be enough, it never is. Zelda lays a hand on Midna’s stomach, teasing the warm skin there before moving downward. 

She touches Midna’s clit with the rhythm of her hips, rubbing in soft circles throughout, increasing the pressure as she thrusts inside of Midna. 

Every time Zelda increases the pressure, every time she slams inside of her lover particularly hard, she’s rewarded by Midna moaning and squirming, canting her hips upward to take the toy deeper, desperate for Zelda. 

After a particularly deep thrust, Zelda stays in place, choosing to circle and grind her hips rather than move in and out. She stays consistent on Midna’s clit, never easing up. When Midna asks for _more,_ Zelda obliges, using more pressure against Midna’s clit, still pushing against it with small circling motions. 

There isn’t anything in particular that pushes Midna over the edge. Zelda keeps the pleasure consistent, bringing her higher and higher. She knows when Midna is close, watches the way her thighs twitch with each touch to her clit. 

Zelda keeps Midna steady, bringing her to the edge and over, touching her throughout until she’s well and truly finished. 

Midna is quiet, as she always is after coming. Zelda places a gentle kiss against her neck before pulling out, slow and careful with her motions. The toy makes a slick noise that’s horribly arousing. When Zelda gets a good look at it, it’s wet with Midna’s arousal, a sight that’s appealing beyond words. 

She moves to lay down next to Midna, stroking her hair and placing soft kisses on her neck as she comes down from her orgasm. 

When her lover reaches out, playing with her hair in return, Zelda smiles to herself, small and happy. 

Midna insists on touching her as well before they finally sleep. Zelda wants to decline, as Midna is clearly tired, but she’s incredibly aroused, the wetness difficult to ignore.

Zelda enjoys indulging Midna in whatever ideas she comes up with, as Midna is always willing to indulge her in turn. 


	10. Midzel - Scissoring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the shortest one so far, but I'm so happy with it. I wanted it to be soft and silly, because sometimes sex is like that too. As a wlw, I know that scissoring isn't really what it's cracked up to be, so I thought it would be fun to play with that concept instead of going with it for the sake of porn.

“I found an interesting book in the library,” Midna whispers into Zelda’s neck, kissing softly at the skin there.

“Oh? I didn’t know you even knew where the library is,” chuckles accompany her words.

An indignant “Hey!” rings out, and Midna’s soft kisses turn into sharp bites, her teeth digging into Zelda in a way that’s entirely too pleasant. She lets out a huff before pulling away from holding Zelda, her pout audible in her voice, “I’ll have you know that although I may not be a bookworm like you, I know my own palace enough to at least know where the library is. I’m allowed to read, too! Besides, you’ll want to know all about what I found.”

Zelda rolls over to face Midna again, propping her head up to look down at her lover. She’s intrigued by her words, of course, but she can’t resist taking the time to admire Midna. The light is low in their bedroom (the one in the Twilight Realm, Zelda prefers to keep the one in Hyrule well-lit), making Midna’s orange hair glow like warm embers. Her naked skin is gorgeous, of course, blue and black skin melting together into beautifully swirling patterns. Most of all, Zelda is drawn to Midna’s eyes—the way they perfectly balance yellow and red feels like gazing at the setting sun. 

She’s brought out of her trance by Midna’s soft humming, a hand fiddling with her long, brown hair. She smiles softly, “Tell me all about it, then.”

Midna suddenly flushes. It’s captivating, the way soft redness blooms across her cheeks, and Zelda is unable to look away. Midna averts her gaze, but continues playing with Zelda’s hair, her voice almost _shy,_ “The book was about pleasure,” she clears her throat, “And I found something in it that I thought we could try.”

Zelda was intrigued before, but now she’s even more interested. Midna is always upfront, forward, _seductive,_ so hearing her so shy isn’t something she’s familiar with. If it’s enough to have her blushing, then whatever had been in that book must be truly erotic. 

“Are you going to tell me or show me?” She questions, reaching out to pet Midna’s hair.

Midna’s blush deepens, somehow, the deep red juxtaposing her pale, blue skin in a way that’s beyond gorgeous. Instead of words, she brings her hands up to gesture. She makes a V shape with the middle and index fingers of both of her hands, and then, with the briefest hesitation, slots them together. 

It takes Zelda a moment to understand. When she does, she moves to straddle Midna, pulling her into a soft kiss. When she pulls away, her lips ghost over Midna’s with each word, “You want to try it?”

All she gets is a nod in response, but it’s endearingly eager. Zelda smiles to herself before trying to figure out just _how_ they’re going to do this. As she thinks, she allows her hands to wander, squeezing at Midna’s breasts and circling her nipples. Midna is so responsive to teasing, so impatient, and Zelda smiles to herself before rubbing and pinching at Midna’s nipples when she starts to whine.

“You stay there, and I’ll lay down at the end of the bed and try to figure this out,” Zelda murmurs, giving Midna’s nipples a few chaste licks before pulling away. 

Midna’s legs are long and gorgeous, and Zelda takes her time admiring them as she works her way down Midna’s body. She pays particular attention to her thighs, squeezing at their plush thickness and tracing across the softly glowing patterns of her Twili markings. She spreads Midna’s legs as she goes, and can’t resist a brief brush against her clit, relishing in the way her thighs twitch in response.

Finally, she settles near the foot of the bed, spreading her legs and wiggling toward Midna.

It’s…awkward. Zelda scoots up the bed toward Midna’s open legs. She has to turn her hips to the side, lifting up one of Midna’s legs to slot her own beneath it. The weight of Midna’s leg is pleasant, as is the feeling of their skin rubbing together. She scoots further up the bed, trying to align their lower bodies. 

Midna yelps, and Zelda belatedly realizes that she’d almost kicked her in the face. She rushes to apologize, her tone soft and soothing.

“Do you still want to try this?” Zelda asks.

A small huff accompanies Midna rolling her eyes, but she still answers with an affirmative, “Yes.”

Zelda moves further, careful to keep her feet away from Midna’s face. Finally, _finally,_ their lower bodies slot together, but the sensation is rather underwhelming. While it isn’t unpleasant, it certainly isn’t overly pleasurable.

She wiggles her hips, experimentally, and sighs when her clit catches against Midna’s. Midna is louder than her, as usual, letting out a breathy moan at the sensation. Zelda tries to move again, but comes close to kicking Midna once more. 

It takes very careful movements of her hips to brush against Midna just right, and it’s hard to stay consistent. In the moments their clits aren’t touching, it isn’t stimulating beyond the simple pleasure of feeling Midna’s skin against her own. Zelda can tell that Midna is growing frustrated, and so is she, but Midna is much more obvious about her dissatisfaction. Small huffs and disappointed puffs of air are forced out of Midna, only stopping when their clits occasionally brush together. This isn’t going to get either of them off. 

With a sigh, Zelda stops her movements. Midna looks down at her, confused, and Zelda reaches out to stroke the markings on her legs reassuringly. She’s unable to keep the frustration out of her voice, “This isn’t working, is it?”  
  
Midna laughs and smiles, and maybe that makes this worth it. “No,” she states simply, followed by more chuckles, “It isn’t.”

Zelda laughs too, now. Midna’s moods are usually infectious, her laughter especially so. Though the situation is certainly frustrating, it’s undeniably amusing. Of course she enjoys sex with Midna, but being able to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation makes her just as happy. 

They laugh together, exchanging quips about how inaccurate the book had been, how ridiculous the position is. Zelda savors the feeling of Midna’s body shaking with laughter, the feeling of their skin pressed together. 

Finally, Zelda wiggles out of their strange position, nearly kicking Midna _again,_ sending them both into a fit of giggles. 

When they’re separated, Zelda crawls back up the bed, laying next to Midna and pulling her into a soft kiss. It’s moments like this, ridiculous as they are, that make her love for the Twilight Queen grow impossibly, infinitely deeper. 

They bask in each other’s presence, petting at soft skin and hair, sharing meaningful looks and chaste kisses. Zelda becomes less chaste, licking and sucking at Midna’s neck. She’s pushed away, Midna giving some excuse about not leaving marks on her skin. They both know that her magic could easily heal any marks, but Zelda obliges her, moving on to the darker skin of her breasts. 

She takes the time to play with Midna with her mouth and hands, paying extra attention to her nipples with her tongue, just the way Midna likes it. 

When Zelda pulls away, she smiles at Midna’s exasperated whine, words low as she inches down Midna’s body. She finally settles with her head between Midna’s thighs, peering up to meet the fire in her eyes. 

Midna positively _melts_ beneath her gaze, and Zelda knows the feeling. Having Midna peer up at her from between her legs—anticipation building as her tongue pokes out to tease—Zelda reacts much the same way. She smiles, placing soft kisses across Midna’s thighs, occasionally biting softly at her skin. 

“Since your idea didn’t work out, I suppose you’ll have to settle for my mouth instead,” it’s requesting permission melded together with an invitation. She knows Midna will accept. 

Midna nods. Zelda grins in response and immediately dives in, putting her mouth to good use.

They both know that this isn’t _settling_ by any means, and Zelda is happy to settle with Midna’s touches as well once she’s overwhelmed her queen with pleasure. 


	11. Ghiralink - Stockings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing them so fucking much they come so easily and are so much fun.

Link _likes_ wearing thigh highs. They feel nice, they make him look good, and sometimes it’s thrilling to know he has something so sensual hidden beneath his clothes. 

He’s gotten so used to wearing them that he often forgets that they’re there, though occasionally, he’ll move just right and be reminded of the tightness around his thighs. Moments like that seem to happen around Ghirahim more than anything else, but Link ignores that train of thought easily enough. 

They’re training in Faron Woods, Ghirahim running him through yet _another_ set of drills. All Link wants to do is spar with him, but instead he’s pushed through individual exercises that are meant to increase his skills, but more often than not leave him sore and exhausted. That’s the point, he supposes, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

“Skychild,” Ghirahim’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, and a well placed kick to his ankle has him falling to the ground, drills long forgotten. Ghirahim moves to stand over him, planting one foot on either side of his pelvis. The feeling of Ghirahim looming over him is so intense that Link almost wishes it would stop. Almost, but not quite.

“It isn’t like you to be so distracted. Not that I’m concerned, of course, but I can’t help but wonder just what sort of inconsequential thoughts are keeping you from paying attention to me,” Ghirahim’s voice is low and dark, his gaze captivating. 

Link mumbles some excuse about being hungry. The look on Ghirahim’s face is so annoyed, so _disappointed,_ that he doesn’t need to speak for Link to know that he doesn’t believe him. 

He clears his throat, words short but honest as he avoids Ghirahim’s steely gray eyes, “I’m sick of doing drills. I want to spar with you instead.”

Ghirahim’s throaty laughter echoes through the clearing, and goddesses above, it shouldn’t affect him so much. Try as he may, Link can’t deny his feelings for the Demon Lord, and situations like this make them so much harder to keep hidden. 

“Your honesty is endearing. Come on then,” Ghirahim reaches a hand out to Link, who takes it without hesitation. He allows Ghirahim to pull him up, admiring his strength and trying not to pay _too_ much attention to the feeling of Ghirahim’s hand wrapped tightly around his own.

All too quickly, the contact is gone and Ghirahim is standing at a respectable distance. With a snap of his fingers, his mantle vanishes with a flash of diamonds.

“Because you lied to me, I’m not going to go easy on you,” Ghirahim chuckles again, summoning his usual silver rapier. 

Link quips back, “You _never_ go easy on me.”

Laughter, louder and darker than before, fills the clearing once more. It rings through Link’s ears, encompassing and overwhelming him in a way that’s much too pleasant. He gulps and raises his (Ghirahim’s) sword, still not quite used to using both of his hands to wield it. The length and weight are both more substantial than the Master Sword, though it feels just as _right_ in his hands.

“Oh Skychild, if you truly think that I haven’t been holding back on you, you’re more of a fool than I thought.” With that, Ghirahim lunges at him.

Ghirahim is right. He _had_ been holding back in the month they’ve spent together as master and sword, that much is made clear with his first strike. Link struggles to move quickly enough, bringing his own blade up just in time to parry. 

The Demon Lord dances around him, movements quick and powerful. He flashes in and out of view so quickly that Link can barely keep track of his movements, let alone counter them. As green as he is with Ghirahim’s sword, his parries and lunges are often much too slow. He hasn’t hit Ghirahim _once,_ yet he’s been too slow to parry quite a few times. As evidence of his mistakes, he bears quite a few slashes across his tunic, one or two of them staining the fabric red. It’s clear that Ghirahim is at least holding back from injuring him, but that isn’t saying much.

Another failed parry leads to a slash at his thigh, and Ghirahim freezes, his entire body going stiff. Link almost takes the opportunity to strike, but he’s confused ( _not_ worried) about Ghirahim’s sudden change in demeanor.

Link follows Ghirahim’s gaze down toward his leg, where his trousers had been ripped open by Ghirahim’s latest attack. He isn’t sure what Ghirahim is staring at but– oh. The fabric is torn just right, revealing Link’s tan skin, but also…also the black fabric of his stocking. 

He finds himself looking back up toward Ghirahim’s face, trying to figure out his thoughts, but Ghirahim’s expression is pulled into a careful mask of neutrality. 

After what feels like a century of standing and staring at one another, frozen in place, Ghirahim’s eyes move away from his exposed thigh to meet Link’s. His face erupts into a wide, devilish grin, eyes gleaming with _something,_ and Link has a sinking feeling that this can’t be good. 

His grin grows even wider, tainting his voice with a knowing tone, “Oh Skychild, what is this?” The question is innocent, but the way it’s asked is decidedly not. _Nothing_ about Ghirahim is innocent, from his wide, knowing grin, to his teasing words that try as he may, Link can’t help but hang on to.

Link tries to speak, but he doesn’t know what to say. He flounders, eyes darting around but unable to stray too far from Ghirahim. He moves a hand to cover the hole in his trousers, but thinks better of it when his eyes catch on Ghirahim’s own.

With his response (his lack of response, really), Ghirahim’s grin grows impossibly wider. His eyes gleam brighter, mischief and something else dancing about in their gray depths. He takes a step toward Link, and when he doesn’t back away, takes another.

“Can I see?” His voice is nearly a whisper, positively _dripping_ with something that Link doesn’t dare call desire. In the pit of his gut, he hopes that’s what it is, hopes that Ghirahim feels the deep-seated need that he does (and maybe the love too?).

“Can you–” Link gulps, his words finally working. 

Ghirahim nods, advancing closer when Link doesn’t protest. He stalks toward Link as if he’s his prey, though Link doesn’t feel scared. Instead, he feels need coiling in his gut, reveling in the feeling of Ghirahim’s dominance washing over him.

Finally, Ghirahim is almost on top of him. He tilts his head to the side, a silent repetition of his question. Link nods hesitantly before allowing himself to give in to whatever this is, hesitance quickly giving way to fervor. 

Gloved hands reach for the clasp of his trousers and Link gasps before taking a step back. He feels himself flush now, his cheeks burning bright red. He’s unable to meet Ghirahim’s eyes, his words quiet, “I didn’t think…I thought you just wanted to look closer at the tear, not…” He trails off, unable to finish his thought. 

Soft hands cup his cheeks, the gloves gone now, leaving behind so much warmth pressed up against Link’s face. Link meets Ghirahim’s eyes to see that the glint is still there, but soft understanding is there too. 

“I should have made my intentions more clear. I want to see just what it is that you’ve been hiding from me, without your clothing in the way. Is that still alright?” Ghirahim strokes a thumb across his cheek, the gesture surprisingly soft. Link leans into the touch, into Ghirahim, finding that he’s unable to pull away, though that’s the last thing he wants. 

“Yes,” he whispers, though he knows Ghirahim will hear.

That knowing grin comes back in full force, and Link yelps as Ghirahim reaches for his tunic, hands working quickly to pull it up and off of him. He’s left exposed, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears under Ghirahim’s burning gaze. 

Gray eyes trail over the expanse of his chest, over scars old and new, over planes of muscle and soft, tan skin. Link finds it embarrassing, but he doesn’t shrink away. Knowing that Ghirahim is just as captivated by _him_ as Link is by the demon…it’s a good feeling. He’s longed to feel Ghirahim’s burning gaze fixated on him for so long, and now that he finally has it, he isn’t willing to let Ghirahim’s focus stray. 

In a bold move that has Link flushing even deeper, he grabs at Ghirahim’s hands and pulls them toward his pants. Ghirahim frowns at him and moves his hands away. Link whines, but sinks into him once more as Ghirahim trails his warm hands across his shoulders, squeezing at his biceps, admiring his chest and abdomen. It’s almost too much, but it’s so good that Link couldn’t possibly pull away.

Finally, Ghirahim’s hands return to his trousers, looking down into Link’s eyes so intensely that he can’t look away. He feels his blush deepen as Ghirahim undoes his trousers, pushing them down his hips while maintaining heated eye contact.

With a nudge, Ghirahim asks Link to step out of his pants, so he does. He’s left in nothing but his black thigh highs and tight, black boxers to match.

“May I touch?” Ghirahim asks, voice burning just as intensely as his eyes. Link gulps, sure that the black fabric of his boxers won’t do anything to hide his growing erection. 

“ _Please,_ ” it’s more of a whine than a statement. Ghirahim leans forward, chuckling deeply into his ear and nipping at its tip. Link feels it twitch in response, and his knees nearly give out when he feels a warm hand pressed to the exposed skin of his thighs. 

Both of Ghirahim’s hands are on him, teasing and squeezing at the thickness of his thighs. There’s a small, exposed strip of skin between his boxers and his thigh highs, which is where Ghirahim focuses his ministrations. 

One of Ghirahim’s fingers dips below the material of the stocking and _oh_ that shouldn’t feel so good. Soon enough, he’s pushed his entire hand beneath the fabric, holding and stroking at Link’s thigh. With his other hand, he pinches at the flesh that spills out over the tight fabric of the stocking. Soon enough, he alternates, thoroughly exploring both of Link’s legs. 

Soon enough, his hands wander upward, still groping at Link’s thighs. His fingers slip up underneath the material of his boxers, caressing the soft skin found there. 

“Can I touch you here?” Ghirahim asks, a single finger trailing upward but not touching any further. 

Link whines, “Yes, but not here, not here…” He trails off, overwhelmed by the sensation of one of his greatest fantasies coming true. He wears the thigh highs because he enjoys them, not because he’d hoped Ghirahim would find out. Though they’re meant for his own enjoyment, he’d been unable to deny that the thought was thrilling, and now that it’s actually _happening…_

A pinch against his thigh pulls him out of his increasingly erotic thoughts. Link clears his throat before continuing to speak, “Take me home.”

With a haughty smirk that shows just how _pleased_ Ghirahim is for getting what he wants, he gathers Link up in his arms and teleports them back to Link’s house in the woods ( _their_ house, now).

He tosses Link on the bed with more care than he’d like to admit, sitting at the foot of the bed to admire the view. Link’s tan skin is heavily contrasted by the black fabric of his stockings. His face and ears are flushed a bright red, his chest heaving with labored breaths. Ghirahim smirks, letting his tongue hang out of his mouth and savoring the way Link’s eyes fixate on it. 

“I’m going to take these off,” Ghirahim sinks his fingers below the waistband of Link’s boxers, “But leave your pretty little stockings on. Is that alright?”  
  
“Yes!” Link gasps out, hips thrusting forward beneath Ghirahim’s touch. 

Always one to tease, Ghirahim ghosts a hand over Link’s clothed erection. Link sighs and moans, but Ghirahim pulls away quickly enough, instead focusing on the hollows of his hips, teasing across the indent of bone buried beneath layers of muscle.

As slowly as he can stand, Ghirahim strips off Link’s boxers. The way the flesh of his thighs spills out over the tops of the stockings is even more pronounced with the boxers gone, the sight even more enthralling with Link’s hard cock on full display. 

“I’m going to take you now, Link,” Ghirahim whispers into the skin of his hip, nipping at bone and muscle. 

He gets a slew of “yes”s in response, and makes quick work of wrapping his long tongue around the head of Link’s cock. 

Link nearly _screams_ at the overwhelming pleasure. Ghirahim’s tongue is wet and warm and _dexterous,_ its movements heavenly around him. He tries to cant his hips toward the feeling, but they’re pressed back into the bed in an instant. 

Satisfied that Link has learned his lesson, Ghirahim moves his hands to touch and squeeze at his legs, enthralled at the sight of the thigh highs. He dips his fingers below the fabric, pulls it back to snap against Link’s legs, wraps his hands around Link’s thighs in an all-encompassing hold. He hushes Link’s whines when he pulls away from his cock, unable to resist the urge to lick beneath the thigh highs, biting harshly at the exposed skin above the stockings. 

Whines and moans fill the air, Link loud without words. Finally, Ghirahim moves his tongue back to his cock and _oh,_ now he’s using his mouth too. Link sinks into Ghirahim’s touch, giving up his control in favor of allowing Ghirahim to take him. 

The length of Ghirahim’s tongue wraps and squeezes around Link’s cock in a way that’s so overwhelming that he’s unable to focus on anything else. His mouth is warm and wet and _tight_ around him, and Link has never felt pleasure like this before. Nothing, no one, could ever compare to Ghirahim, could ever compare to this. 

His hands don’t let up, still squeezing and stroking at Link’s thighs, toying with the stockings. If Link had known just how much they’d affect Ghirahim, he would have shown him much sooner. But he has Ghirahim now, and that’s all he can think about as he’s sucked off. 

Link would be embarrassed with how quickly he comes if it weren’t for the fact that Ghirahim is so skilled. He’s been worked up for so long, _wanting this_ for so long, that coming quickly is inevitable. Besides, with the way this is going, he’s almost positive that he’ll have _many_ more opportunities to work on his stamina with Ghirahim. 

When he comes, his thighs shake and his ears twitch. He sees white, but through it all, he feels Ghirahim’s mouth working him through his orgasm, his hands squeezing at his thighs. Link sighs into his release, whispering Ghirahim’s name when he’s coherent enough to form words. 

Ghirahim pulls away when his cock twitches from overstimulation, crawling up Link’s body to whisper in his ear, tongue trailing over the pointed tip.

His voice is dark with arousal, though still undeniably _warm,_ “I want you to suck me off now,” he rolls his hips against Link, showing him just how affected he is, “And while you do, I’m going to touch your legs even more. When you’re done, we can talk about feelings or whatever pointless drivel I’m sure you want to say. Does that sound agreeable?”

It does, and Link says as such. He wants to suck Ghirahim’s cock so badly that he practically _drools,_ though he keeps quiet about that. Ghirahim snaps his fingers to remove his own clothing, and Link is quick to settle his mouth above his cock. He plants his knees on either side of his chest, giving Ghirahim access to his thighs and ass. 

Link vows to give Ghirahim the best orgasm of his life (so far, there will be many more together), knowing deep down that they _both_ have feelings to discuss. 

With a smirk of his own, Link focuses on Ghirahim’s cock, his grin growing even wider as warm hands squeeze at his thighs and play with his stockings. Link wears them for himself, but he doesn’t mind wearing them for Ghirahim as well.


	12. Midlink - Soft Femdom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fucking soft for Midlink, in case you can't tell.

Link isn’t quite sure how he’d managed to tell Midna that he wants it up the ass, but he feels like somehow, she’d already known.

She teases him in that way of hers that holds no ill intent, and Link is comforted by the fact that she’s so accepting. Truthfully, he hadn’t expected anything else. Despite her teasing words (“Oh puppy, you want me to play with you like _that?_ What a naughty boy you are.”), she’s reassuring, and Link knows that she’ll do her best to give him what he’s asked for. He’d do _anything_ for Midna—he gives in to her as easily as breathing, so he can trust that she’ll take care of him.

He’d mentioned it in passing, and he quickly realizes that his timing had been a mistake. Now he has to wait, unsure of when she’ll take him the way he wants, allowing him to fall into perfect submission for his queen.

For longer than he wants to wait, they’re both exhausted enough that they do little else but fall asleep in each other’s arms. Midna is kept busy with her duties as queen, while Link travels between the Twilight Realm and Hyrule as the hero of both lands. Needless to say, at times it’s tiring work. 

A few nights after his whispered confession, Link returns to the palace with a bounce in his step, hoping that Midna has as much energy as he does. He’s so eager that he knows if he were in his wolf form, his tail would be wagging uncontrollably. 

Link rushes to Midna’s personal chambers (really theirs at this point, though Midna insists that referring to it as such would be improper unless they were engaged. She isn’t very subtle, but Link loves her all the same, so much so that he _is_ planning to propose.)

In his excitement, Link opens the door with a bit too much force, causing it to slam into the stone wall of Midna’s bedroom. Her soft chuckles float up to his ears, her amusement clear. Link pouts the slightest bit, but he’s more careful when he closes the door behind him.

“Hello Wolfie. It’s good to know that you’re so excited to see me,” she croons at Link, her voice beckoning him to join her on the bed. 

Midna pulls him into her arms, and Link finally feels like he can relax. Being held by Midna is like nothing else, her taller frame enveloping him in comfort and safety. She practically radiates heat, and Link feels no shame as he burrows his face into her chest, seeking out her warmth. Midna tosses aside his green cap, and Link shakes out his hair, causing her to chuckle down at him.

“Truly living up to your namesake, I see, acting like an unkempt wolf,” Midna’s hands stroke through his hair, playing with the soft strands. “That’s alright though, I rather like seeing you _come undone._ ”

_Oh._

When Link had sought out her warmth, he truly wanted soft touches and comfort. He can’t deny that his mind has been stuck on his request, but hearing her words drip with dominance, with arousal… Midna’s voice alone has such an effect on him that he can feel arousal beginning to pool in his gut.

She pulls him closer into her chest, practically burying Link’s face in the soft flesh of her breasts. He flushes now, all the way to the tips of his ears, but who is he to deny such an invitation?

Link sucks and licks at Midna’s breasts in earnest. Touching her like this is a privilege—to be able to serve the Queen of Twilight herself in such a way leaves him in awe. They’re both experienced with this. Midna has taken the time to show him _exactly_ what she wants and where she wants it, and Link is always willing to do what she asks of him. 

He’s careful with his teeth, digging in his sharp canines just where she likes it rougher, making sure to use only his tongue and mouth on her nipples. Midna is _sensitive,_ so Link does everything he can to take advantage of that fact, pleasuring her in all of the ways he knows will drive her crazy. 

A hand buries itself in his hair, yanking him off of Midna’s chest. Link whines but stays still, staring up into the depths of her red eyes. A soft kiss is pressed to his exposed forehead, catching Link off guard. His blush deepens at the sudden tenderness, and Link breaks eye contact, suddenly bashful.

“As much as I love your mouth, I think tonight is supposed to be about you, hmm?” She yanks him up further by his hair, pulling him into a kiss. Just as Link is giving in, she pulls away, licking at his lips before continuing to speak, “Do you still…how did you put it…‘want it up the ass’?”

Link nearly chokes. Yes, of course that’s what he wants, but hearing her say it so frankly has him reeling. 

He clears his throat, his voice raspy with need, “Yes. Please, Midna.”

She chuckles directly into his ear, blowing hot breath over the tip and causing it to twitch. Link whines but leans further into her, practically begging for her to lick and bite at the shell of his ear. Midna surprises him by grabbing hold of his tiny, blue earring, pulling the slightest bit. Link _keens,_ the tips of his ears bright red.

“Turn around then, puppy,” her voice is deep, a command that he scrambles to obey.

Link turns around so that Midna’s front is pressed into his back. Her tall frame dwarfs him in a way that should be unpleasant, though it makes him feel safe, coveted. Her arms wrap around him once more, pulling him closer until they’re pressed flush to one another. 

“I’m going to take your clothes off now,” she murmurs, and oh Hylia, if Link hadn’t been hard before, he certainly is now.

With a grunt of approval, she does just as she’d promised. Instead of snapping his clothing away with magic, as usual, she takes a different approach with her magic. She runs a single finger down the front of his tunic, causing it to fall away as if it had been sliced off of him. She repeats the process with his chainmail and undershirt. It’s _much_ more intimate than having his clothes stripped all at once. Every touch of Midna’s fingers feels like burning embers, his skin growing hot beneath her with more intensity than the feeling he associates with magic. 

Her hand traces down the side of his thigh and his trousers peel away to reveal bare skin. They’re pressed so close together that Midna’s chuckle reverberates through him, “Oh Wolfie, what a naughty boy you are.”

She nips at the nape of his neck and Link’s words are little more than a whine, “Can you blame me for being eager?”  
  
Another chuckle, this one filled with mirth, shakes through Link’s frame. Midna reaches around him and grabs at his cock, stroking it once, twice, before pulling away. Link whines and angles his hips forward, chasing after her fleeting touch. More laughter, this time dark, the sound echoing through his ears. 

Midna brings her right hand down between them, running her fingers between the cheeks of his ass. With a start, Link realizes that they’re _wet,_ and he flinches away from the unfamiliar sensation. 

Sensing his hesitance, Midna rushes to explain, “Come now, Link, did you really think I wouldn’t do my research? For you, puppy, I learned _everything_ about this. I’m not about to penetrate you without something to ease the way. Is this still alright with you?”

Goddesses above, Midna cares so _much._ That knowledge, along with the burning heat of their love, is enough to wreck and ruin him. He could scream, he could cry, he’s so overwhelmed with emotion, with how _perfect_ Midna is, how well she treats him. Instead, he nods his head vigorously, words spilling out of his mouth like flowing lava, “Love you, love you, love you so _fucking_ much Midna. My queen, you’re my queen, _please._ Need you. Touch me. _Take me._ ”

Instead of more dark laughter, Midna comforts him, easing him through his overwhelming emotions. She strokes at his hips with her left hand, kissing at his neck and whispering sweet nothings into his skin. 

“Good boy,” is the last thing she says before moving her hand back between his ass cheeks, running the slick lubricant up and down. 

Link doesn’t realize he’d been shaking until he stops. When he does, she tells him he’s a good boy again, and begins to rub a finger across his hole. 

He loses it. Link cants his hips back, needing more than a tease. He loves being submissive for Midna, loves pleasing her, but now he _needs_ this so badly that even if it means defying her control, he wants her inside of him. 

“Stop teasing me,” he growls out, and it truly is a _growl._ He bares his teeth, snapping forward at empty air. Movements frantic, he wiggles his hips against Midna’s fingers, seeking more, more.

Midna obliges him. Instead of teasing him, she pushes the first finger into Link without any warning, not stopping until she’s up to the second knuckle. Link _howls._ This is what he’d needed. He’ll be submissive for her, of course, but there’s always that feralness lurking below the surface, and sometimes he needs her to match its intensity with her control.

He wouldn’t describe her as cruel, like this, though she isn’t gentle either. He knows she’d wanted to guide him gently through this, but it isn’t what he needs right now.

With another roll of his hips, he encourages her further, whining loudly when she pushes the rest of her finger inside of him. 

Teeth dig in at the base of his neck, grounding and perfect but still not enough to satiate the primal need that’s building up inside of him. He reaches a hand back and buries it in her hair, too lost to stroke through the soft strands. Instead, he pushes her head further into his neck, holding her firmly in place. It’s less of an order and more of an indication that he needs more, but the assertive action breaks his pattern of submissiveness.

Her sharp teeth dig in further, not drawing blood but coming close. Link knows they’ll leave a lovely bruise, _yearns_ for the sight. He rolls his hips, fucking himself shallowly on the finger inside of him. With her free hand, Midna digs her nails into his hip, forcibly holding him still. Link whines, but not in protest. Yes, finally, she’s matching him with her own fierce nature.

A second finger presses against the rim of Link’s hole, and when he wiggles as much as he’s able to while being held down, it pushes inside. She eases it in, though she moves more quickly than she had with the first finger. 

Link can feel her _inside_ of him. It’s glorious, more pleasurable than he could have ever imagined it would be. It feels like she’s found the core of his being, enveloping him in a way that no other touch could. He’s stripped bare of everything he is, left only with his desire for _her._

When her fingers move around, Link growls and whines. He’s loud, though he finds that he doesn’t care. The louder he is, the more Midna moves, so he makes as much noise as he’s able to.

Midna had said she’d done research, and now she proves it to him. Her movements are precise and overwhelming, and she presses against his prostate with ease.

She releases her hand from his hip, and Link takes the invitation to move, rutting against the fingers inside of him. Midna reaches around him with her free hand, grabbing at his cock to stroke it. She rubs her thumb over the head, smearing his dribbling precum around the tip and down the shaft, making a mess of him. 

Link bows his back into Midna, leaning his head back to rest on her shoulder, dislodging her teeth. Not one to be pushed away, Midna latches on to the side of his neck, biting and sucking and kissing at his skin, promising that she’ll cover him with marks. 

It becomes clear right away that she wants him to come quickly. Link whines and fights against it. He wants to make this last as long as possible, wants to draw out the experience and savor every second that he’s at Midna’s mercy. 

She removes her teeth from his neck to whisper into his ear, “Don’t be afraid to let go, puppy. We can do this again. We can do this every damn day if you want. I promise I’ll give this to you again, so come, Link.”

Her teeth sink into him again, leaving even more marks. Her fingers press into his prostate with insistent motions, the slight thrusts causing the lubricant inside of him to squelch with every movement of her hand. She tightens her hold on his cock, jerking up and down with a vise-like grip. 

It’s too much.

Link comes, instantly overwhelmed by the most intense orgasm of his life. His cock gushes cum, while his hole twitches around the fingers inside of him. Link sees white and then black and then suddenly his eyes are open and he’s panting and out of breath and so blissed out it doesn’t even feel real.

Midna soothes him through his orgasm. They know each other so intimately well, so perfectly, that she knows exactly when to stop touching him. She kisses and licks softly over the harsh marks she’s left behind on his neck. When he finally stops shaking (oh, he’d been shaking again), she turns him around and pulls him into a soft kiss. It’s intense and burns with love, but it’s soft and sweet and just the right amount of overwhelming.

Link loves Midna. He loves her so fucking much that words can’t do it justice. Instead of garbling his words in an attempt to explain his feelings, he sinks into their kiss, moving his lips against hers to perfectly match her intensity. Just as Link can feel Midna’s love through the kiss, he knows that she can feel his. 

When his mind finally clears completely, he reaches a hand down between Midna’s legs, pleased to find that she’s already wet and wanting. 

He’s surprised when she grabs at his hand, pulling it toward her to place a kiss on his wrist, “Not tonight, sweet Link. Tonight is about _you._ ”

As if to prove her point, she works herself to orgasm, allowing Link to watch and hold her throughout. She comes quickly. Based on how wet she’d been, Link shouldn’t be surprised, but he’s still awed by how much fucking him had affected her.

“I love you,” he whispers against her lips as she comes.

When Midna recovers from her own orgasm, her words are as soft as her touches, “I’m so lucky to have such a loyal Wolfie as you. I love you, Link.”

As embarrassing as it had been to ask Midna to fuck him, Link decides that it was more than worth it.


	13. Sidlink - Body Worship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidon is a simp oops.

Every time Link comes to the Domain, he wears a different set of armor. Sidon has to admit that certain sets are rather…arousing. He has a sinking suspicion that Link knows this as well, because he’s always eager to pull Sidon away for sex when he shows up in his Voe armor or his Sheikah set, or even, Hylia help him, the Barbarian armor.

Sidon loves it, of course he does, but he feels like lately, he’s been focused on how good the armor makes Link look. He needs to remind his pearl just how much he loves him without any special clothing or adornments.

He has a plan. The next time Link comes to the Domain, Sidon will be ready to show him just how much he loves his body (and everything else about him, of course).

It’s a surprise when Link shows up _that night,_ but Sidon is prepared. As soon as Bazz tells him that he’s spotted Link fighting the Lynel up at Shatterback Point, Sidon gets ready for his pearl’s descent down the mountain. 

When Link barges into his room, he’s panting and covered in blood. Sidon’s concerned fussing reveals that none of it is his own, but rather, a mix of the Barbarian armor’s bloody war paint and fresh sprays of blood from the Lynel. Link allows him to fuss, soaking up the attention, and Sidon brings him over to his sleeping pool. 

Link freezes at the edge of the pool, peering down into the water. There are bubbles and flower petals floating on the surface, the water tinted pink from the mix of herbs and salts Sidon had poured into it. 

Sidon smiles down at him, trying his best to be reassuring, scrambling when Link wipes away a single tear. Before he can apologize or ask what’s wrong, Link provides an explanation.

 _Thank you, Sidon. I’m not used to such nice things, so it’s a bit of a shock. Thank you for always treating me so well,_ his hands shake as he signs, but his smile is bright and wide. 

“My dear, you deserve only the best. I wish I could do this for you every day, but this will have to suffice instead. Though I am the prince, it’s you who deserves to be treated as such,” he grabs at Link’s hand, and when he doesn’t offer any resistance, Sidon kneels down to place a reverent kiss against the soft skin.

With silent gestures, Sidon urges Link to remove his helmet, helping with the rest of his armor. He’s reverent as he removes strips of leather and cloth from Link’s skin. It isn’t the armor that has him so ardent this time, but Link himself. With touches that are intimate but not inherently sexual, Sidon chooses to admire rather than _take._

He runs his hands across Link’s scarred skin, brushing his claws gently over each scar he comes across. On his knees in front of Link, he places kisses against his lips, his forehead, his cheeks—anywhere he can reach.

When Link is finally naked other than the blood he’s painted with, Sidon sinks into the pool, urging Link to join him. 

Link is hesitant, as if he still doesn’t feel that he deserves such luxury. Sidon gives him a toothy grin, eyes glowing with love, and Link sets his jaw, his own eyes shining brightly in return. He takes Sidon’s outstretched hand, allowing himself to be drawn into the warm water of the sleeping pool. 

Sidon is thorough as he washes Link’s skin. He uses a soft sponge to scrub at the blood, the water turning a darker shade of pink. Sidon ignores the way his gills flare in response, ignores his instincts. This is about _Link._

With the blood gone, Sidon wets a cloth and pours soap onto it. He knows that Link doesn’t like smelling of anything sweet or artificial, so he’d carefully selected soap with only the faintest scent of the sea. The glass bottle clinks when he sets it down on the edge of the pool, but neither of them notice the noise. 

Next, Sidon washes Link’s hair, and this is when his treasure truly begins to relax. Link sighs when Sidon pulls out his hair tie, claws gently combing through soft, blond hair. When he begins to lather Link’s hair with shampoo, Sidon is sure to scratch gently at his scalp. Link lets out little moans, leaning back into Sidon as he’s held from behind. Every little sound and quiver shakes through Link and into Sidon, and goddesses, he’s so enthralling, even in quiet moments like this.

When Sidon finishes with Link, they take time to bask in one other’s presence. Sidon wraps his arms around Link’s chest, pulling his back flush with his front. Link sinks into the touch, pressing himself further into his prince.

Eventually, the pads of Link’s fingers begin to wrinkle, and Sidon pulls him from the water. While he grabs a towel for Link, he drains the dirtied water and allows the sleeping pool to fill back up. The towel is soft and plush against Link’s skin, and he’s almost uncomfortable with how unfamiliar the feeling is. But Sidon is familiar, Sidon feels _right,_ so Link allows himself to be toweled dry, sinking into the softness.

“I’m sure you’re sore,” Sidon rubs experimentally against one of Link’s shoulders, and _oh_ the way he moans at that. He’s beyond sore, his muscles worked into tight knots. Link loves the wilds, loves fighting, but he has to admit that venturing across Hyrule takes its toll on him.

“Would you allow me to give you a massage?” Sidon asks, rubbing softly at his shoulder, his movements without any pressure or force. 

Link’s moan is an answer on its own, but he still signs a quick _yes_ in response.

Sidon guides him to their bed, the mattress gigantic and soft. Link sinks into it without question, letting out yet another happy moan. 

Link sinks his head into a pillow, sighing happily when Sidon clambers to sit atop his hips. Sidon is careful with his claws, though Link doesn’t mind when he isn’t. His large hands push and rub against the planes of Link’s back, digging in when necessary to press at any knots he comes across. 

Though he’s mostly silent, Link lets out little moans and whines when Sidon pushes out a knot, encouraging him further. The tightness of his muscles fades away, pushed aside by Sidon’s skilled hands. Link truly relaxes now, sinking into the mattress and letting go of tension he didn’t know he’d been holding on to. He closes his eyes and devotes all of his focus toward Sidon.

When all of the knots are gone, Sidon runs his hands up and down Link’s back, scratching slightly with his claws. Link is louder now, his breath hitching each time the pressure is increased. 

Sidon leans forward, pressing him further into the bed. His large frame envelops Link, pinning him to the bed with his all-consuming size.

“I want to make you come. Is that alright, my treasure?” He follows his question with his tongue, licking at the tip of Link’s reddened ears. 

Link moans, his words choked out around the noise, “Fuck yes.”

With that, Sidon is no longer on top of him. Before Link can whine, he’s being pulled up from the bed. Sidon sits propped up against the headboard, pulling Link close to mirror the position. It’s no secret that Sidon is brutally strong, but he doesn’t show it often, preferring to be gentle with Link. When he forces Link’s legs apart, pinning them open almost as wide as they can go, Link is hopeless. All he can do is try in earnest to spread his legs wider, to lean further back into his prince.

Sweet nothings are whispered into his ear, followed by sharp claws pinching and playing with his nipples. Fuck, shit, Sidon knows just how good he likes it to hurt, knows how to stay _just_ on the right side of too much.

Link is panting and out of breath within minutes, whining and bucking his hips. He loves having Sidon play with his nipples, but he needs _more._

Teasing words whisper into his ear, “I don’t know if I should touch you here yet.”

With another whine, Sidon touches his cock almost instantly. As sweet as it is when Sidon tries to tease him, they both know that he’s incapable of denying a request from Link. His prince is wrapped around his finger, but Link is kind enough not to take advantage, at least not _too_ much. It’s easy to make Sidon give in to him.

“Your cock is so perfect,” with those words, Link feels himself twitch, precum bubbling out from the tip of his cock. Sidon takes his time to admire his body, squeezing at his thighs, scratching at all of his scars. He touches Link as if he’s a work of art, and when Sidon’s eyes roam over him like _that,_ Link is convinced that he is.

A large hand envelops his cock, wiping the precum around the head and squeezing at the sensitive skin there. The hand moves down his shaft, cupping Link’s balls, squeezing softly. Two fingers reach down further to stroke at his perineum, and Link tilts his hips up into the touch. Sidon doesn’t often touch him there, making the area even more sensitive. A single finger ghosts across his hole before pulling away.

Again, Sidon admires his scars, squeezing and touching his legs, his hands so large that when they wrap around him, Link feels _held_ like never before. Licks and kisses and occasional flashes of sharp teeth are pressed against his neck. 

Sidon focuses back on his cock, his hand nearly swallowing up its length, his pace slowly picking up speed. He touches every single inch of Link’s cock, squeezing and touching and cooing in his ear, telling him just how handsome he is, how much he loves this part of him. The stimulation isn’t enough to come, not yet, but Sidon’s words, his _intentions…_ That just might do it. 

Claws scrape across his chest, Sidon taking the time to admire the scars there and across his arms while he showers Link’s cock with reverent words and touches. Sidon scrapes across the scars on his upper body, too, kissing at the ones in reach. His mouth can’t reach them all in this position, and he quickly grows frustrated.

He pulls Link close to him, maneuvering them so that Link’s back is pressed into the bed, Sidon hovering above him. 

Like this, Sidon can kiss at his lips, his face, his scars. He can lick and suck and bite at his perfect skin. So he does. Link grows increasingly louder as Sidon kisses down his arms, paying attention to each and every scar, licking and kissing at the unmarred patches of skin as well. 

A constant string of praises falls from Sidon’s lips, pressed into Link’s skin but still loud enough that he’ll hear. He still works Link’s cock, but his pace is slow, lingering. He wants Link to feel the tiniest movements, and he wants it to _last._

When Sidon works his way down his chest, Link grabs at his crest, stroking the sensitive protrusion. He fiddles with Sidon’s fins and tail, not pulling but not quite gentle, either. Sidon bites down the length of his abdomen, leaving behind raised red lines from the scrape of his teeth. 

Finally, _finally,_ Sidon’s mouth makes it to his cock. Link nearly screams when he moves to his thighs instead. 

Marks and bites are sucked into the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. Occasionally, Sidon sneaks his tongue up to press against his taint or smooth over his hole, but it isn’t enough. Link wants to be covered in marks, wants to be covered in _Sidon,_ and he’s so overwhelmed by it all. It’s pleasurable in a way he’s never experienced, and he needs more. 

Link whines louder now, finally using his words. He tells Sidon how much he needs him, how much he needs to be touched. The licks and touches are heavenly, and they prove just how much Link belongs to Sidon. He’s been stripped of everything he is by those gentle, innumerous touches, his soul laid bare for the man he loves. 

It’s an experience like no other, and Link needs more. He needs Sidon _inside._ He spreads his legs wider, an invitation that Sidon finally accepts. 

He had known that Sidon would be just as indulgent and thorough with his ass and cock, but he’s still unprepared for the experience. Sidon’s tongue, long and thick, takes its time to lick from his hole to the tip of his cock, wrapping around and licking up the mess of precum covering the head. 

Even as he tilts his hips up toward Sidon’s mouth, the pace doesn’t increase. It’s so overwhelming, to be touched so completely, to be swallowed whole. Sidon’s mouth is hot around him, wet and slick. His tongue squeezes and writhes around his cock and that’s it, _that’s it_ _–_

Sidon pulls away, licking at Link’s ass. He whines at his prince, lamenting his inhibited orgasm, but he can’t deny the effects that Sidon’s devotion has had on him. He’s wound up as taut as a bowstring, ready to snap. He knows that when he does, it will be explosive and all-consuming, the product of Sidon’s thorough worship. 

The tip of Sidon’s wriggling tongue pushes inside of him and Link cries out. He’s close.

Though Sidon has been thorough so far, and remains just as devoted now that he’s inside of him, Link can tell that he’s finally going to be pushed over the edge. 

Insistent pressure is applied against his prostate, Sidon’s tongue pushing harder, the tip moving just right. Link finally snaps, his release just as overwhelming as Sidon’s devotion.

His back bows, his toes curl, his ears twitch. Link comes harder than he has in Goddess knows how long. Sidon soothes him through it, licking softly at his insides before pulling away when his thighs begin to shake and give out. Soft kisses are placed against his shaking legs, before Sidon crawls over him to press their lips together. 

Link sinks into the kiss, into Sidon. He’s so thoroughly exhausted, every part of him meticulously loved and worshipped by his prince. And yet… 

He pulls away from the soft kiss, nipping at one of the fins that frame Sidon’s face, “I want you to fuck me.” He brings his leg up to rub at Sidon’s sheath, pleased to feel that the tips of his cocks are poking out. 

Sidon freezes above him, his entire body going stiff. He clears his throat, his words almost a squeak, “Tonight is about you, my sapphire.”

Link chuckles now, before falling into a fit of laughter. He loves Sidon so much. He loves his limitless devotion, the purity of their love for one another. _Now_ he takes advantage of the way Sidon is wrapped around his finger, pulling him closer, tighter. He pulls Sidon into another kiss, whispering against his lips, “If it’s about me, then I’m telling you that I want you to fuck me.”

A grunt is forced out of Sidon’s throat, his gills fluttering at his sides. Link grins up at his prince, kissing him so deeply, so thoroughly, that his need is made undeniably clear. 

He’s too tired to do much other than lay down and take it, but neither of them mind. Sidon has done such an exhaustive job of making him come undone that Link wants him to be just as overwhelmed with pleasure. Link is greedy for that, greedy for more, greedy for his prince.

As always, Sidon rushes to indulge him. 


	14. Midlink - Face Sitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter one, but I still had fun a lot of fun with it. I love these two so much waaaaah.

“I’m going to sit on your face.”

Midna had told him her intentions. She told him exactly what she plans to do. And yet…such a simple statement never could have prepared Link for the feeling of her thighs clamped down around his head.

With one hand propped up on the headboard, Midna peers down at him, her gaze dark. Her hair fans out to frame her face, highlighting the shadows that dance across her skin. It’s in moments like this that Link is forcibly reminded that Midna _is_ the shadows. She’s the Queen of the Twili, and oh what a sight she is, blending in with the flickering darkness around them.

“I’m only going to ask you once,” her gaze burns into him, red eyes brighter than any fire, “Are you willing to give yourself to me? Like this?”

“ _Yes,_ ” he rasps out, his voice hoarse. His throat is dry with need, parched as if he’d been wandering through the desert for days on end. But _oh,_ she’s going to quench his thirst.

Midna’s thighs shake with the force of her laughter, the movement pushing against his face. She buries a hand in his hair, pulling his head up to meet her gaze—though Link had already been unable to look away. She maintains eye contact as she speaks, her words low and dripping with arousal, “Oh puppy, always so eager to please. Be a good boy for me.”

Link whines low in his throat, and she finally descends upon him.

He pokes his tongue out of his mouth, ready to please his queen. Midna drags herself along Link’s tongue, allowing him to taste the wetness of her arousal. She moves in a way that allows him to lick along the seam of her lips, but it’s clear that Link isn’t allowed to push between them. 

She does it again, dragging herself across his tongue. It’s painfully obvious how wet she is, and yet, Link isn’t allowed to do anything more. He cries out in frustration and is met with a chuckle in response. Midna repeats her movements over and over, so many times that Link isn’t sure if she’s teasing herself or taunting him. 

Eventually, Midna grows as impatient as Link has been since the moment she declared her intentions, sinking lower and finally _sitting down._ He moans, the sound muffled by her flesh. His head is cradled by the thickness of her thighs, her pussy pressed flush against his mouth. Link is surrounded by Midna, overwhelmed in a way he hadn’t thought possible. He can’t think about anything but her, so he gives into the feeling and loses himself in Midna. 

“What a handsome throne I have to sit on,” Midna coos, tangling a hand in his dark blond hair. She pulls, tilting his head up to meet her eyes, the action causing his tongue to drag through the slickness between her legs. They both moan at that, and Link watches as something mischievous twinkles to life in her eyes. 

She grabs at his hair, tilting and maneuvering his head until his tongue is exactly where she wants it. Link’s instincts scream at him to push forward and lick inside of her. As difficult as it is, he holds himself back, moaning around Midna when she lowers her hips, sinking down onto his tongue on her own. 

Midna fucks herself on his tongue; there’s no other way to describe what she’s doing. With one hand braced on the headboard and the other buried in his hair, Midna holds Link firmly in place, pushing herself up and off of him only to let herself fall back down. She’s hot and wet on his tongue, on his mouth. His senses are overwhelmed, overtaken by everything that is _Midna._

Though his range of motion is limited, Link does his best to please his queen. He moves his tongue when it’s inside of her, licking as deep as she allows him to. When she sinks down onto his mouth, he closes his lips around her, kissing and sucking at her pussy. 

It’s loud and messy. The room is filled with the wet squelching noises of Link’s tongue pressing in and out of Midna, made even louder by the way he kisses and sucks at her lips, at her skin—whatever part of her he can reach. Link is a mess, her slickness all over his face. He loves this. He loves that he’s made Midna this way, that he’s causing her to make such a mess of them both. He wants to be louder, messier, goddesses above he wants _more._

His whining is loud, with garbled noises constantly falling from his mouth. He switches between whining and moaning so often that he can’t even tell the sounds apart. Midna’s pussy muffles the noise, and the sounds of _that_ are even more arousing. 

He wants this forever. He wants to be her throne, to be whatever it is she wants him to be, as long as it means he can give himself to her like this. 

The hand in his hair tightens and pulls his head higher. Midna is insistent as she presses her clit against his mouth, and Link knows all too well how to please her like this. Instead of riding his tongue as she’d done earlier, Midna stays pressed against his mouth now. She angles her hips every so often to grind against his tongue, setting the pace. Midna is in control of this. 

Link uses his tongue in earnest. He licks around and over her clit, pressing up against it when she angles her hips just so. With the smallest of movements, he can tell exactly what Midna wants and where she wants it, and he’s always quick to give her what she’s asked of him. 

After a particularly harsh thrust against his face, Link closes his lips around Midna’s clit and _sucks,_ moaning loudly when she bucks into the contact. The hand in his hair is insistent, encouraging, so he continues sucking. 

He grabs at her thighs, reveling in their soft thickness as he dares to press them further against his face. When she doesn’t protest, Link holds on tighter and continues to suck at her clit, savoring the feeling of Midna rubbing herself across his face, covering him in wetness. 

Midna tells him what to do until the very end, commanding him to stop sucking so that she won’t come. Then she has him lick softly until she’s ready to be pushed to the edge again. She does this too many times to count, and Link is left in awe by how put together she is despite how overwhelming the pleasure must be. 

Each time she approaches orgasm, her thighs begin to shake and twitch against Link’s face. He savors the feeling, loves being held by her in every way possible. 

Finally, Midna reaches her breaking point. She holds Link in place just so, her grip firm but soft, dominant but not unkind. She tells him to _suck_ and he does, sucking and licking and laving at her clit. 

Midna brings herself to the edge with the way she controls Link, and he pushes her over once she lets herself go. 

Watching Midna come like this is unlike anything else. Her legs clamp down further against his face, her thighs twitching and shaking even more. She grinds herself up against his mouth, muffling his moans with her arousal. When her clit begins to twitch against Link’s tongue, he gives it a soft kiss before pulling away. Midna likes to be worked through her orgasm, but when she begins shaking _that_ much, Link knows that she’s done. 

When she finally comes down, she gets up off of his face. Link whines at the loss, but she isn’t gone for long. Midna settles her head on his chest, the length of her body pressed against his own. The weight is comforting—Link enjoys holding her like this. 

He savors the softness of their bodies pressed together. He loves quiet moments like this just as much as the sex, so he takes his time to enjoy it while it lasts. Link knows Midna, knows that in a few minutes she’ll want to fuck herself on his cock. He’s hard and wanting for that, but it’s nice to hold her while she’s in such a blissful state, to whisper sweet words of affection in her ear and receive even sweeter words in return. 

She lifts her head off of his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. “I want your cock,” she demands softly. 

Link rushes to oblige his queen.


	15. Sidlink - Prostitution

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT!!! My amazing friend soborednow drew some fanart for this piece and it's honestly the most gorgeous thing ever? She super nailed exactly what I was imagining as I wrote. [Here is the art,](https://soborednow.tumblr.com/post/632501689973374976/when-i-read-the-kinktober-submition-of) please give it lots of love.
> 
> FUCK this is the longest one yet at 4400 words. I don't know why I do this to myself, but this idea REALLY ran away from me. I might end up posting it separately after Kinktober since it's longer and has more background than the rest. Aaaaah Sidlink still has me so soft.
> 
> Lowkey inspired by [this series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/801960) of works by seamonster here on AO3.

Sidon has always found balls to be stuffy and obnoxious, but the experience is much worse when the celebration is held in his honor. 

The Elders have decided that he needs to start courting someone, _anyone,_ and so here he is, bored out of his mind at a ball meant to attract potential suitors. It isn’t that Sidon is uninterested in a relationship —in fact he’s a bit _too_ interested. Sidon wants to marry for love, and he wants to do it at his own pace, which is what has caused tension between himself and the Elders. His father is kind and supportive of his wishes, but he had encouraged Sidon to give the ball a chance.

So here he is, trying his best to avoid the Zora men and women (and the occasional Hylian) that are desperate for his attention. He’d tried engaging in conversation at first, but he’d quickly realized that they talked to him as if he were little more than his kingdom and the assets it could provide. If they could just treat him as _Sidon,_ he’d be willing to give things a chance. 

It’s easy enough to find a place where he won’t be bothered. Gathered in one of the ballroom’s small alcoves is a group of courtesans. Though Sidon isn’t interested in their services, he knows that if he stays around them, he’ll be left alone. The courtesans aren’t scorned or anything of the like, but with the focus on Sidon tonight, he knows that very little attention will be directed toward them. 

With a pleasant nod and quiet words, Sidon greets the small group. He lets them in on his plan, tipping them all for keeping quiet about his presence. When they agree to help him, he settles in at the back of the alcove. It’s incredibly unprincely behavior, but he can’t take another stilted conversation in which he isn’t seen as a person.

He’s barely let out a sigh of relief when a hand touches at his forearm. Sidon looks down to find a Hylian standing at his side, looking up to meet his eyes. 

The Hylian is dressed in long, flowing skirts and a wispy shirt that shows off their toned midriff. A veil is fastened across their face, the material just as transparent as the shirt. Sidon nearly chokes at the sight, and he’s sure his cheeks flush blue. He isn’t one for sex without love, but the Hylian before him is the greatest temptation he’s ever faced. He’s taken in an instant.

“My name is Link,” he greets Sidon. The deep raspiness of his voice tells Sidon that he’s a man—he hadn’t wanted to assume based on appearances alone. 

He chokes around his words, “I’m Sidon.”

Laughter rings out like tinkling bells and _oh,_ Sidon is smitten now. He isn’t sure if he believes in love at first sight, but whatever he’s feeling now certainly comes close. His thoughts are interrupted by Link, and Sidon is quick to hang on to his every word, “I know who you are. This celebration is being held for you, after all.”

Ah. Of course Link would know of him. 

“I must say, I hadn’t expected a prince such as yourself to come visit us. You have quite the reputation, you know. Unwilling to take a lover, or even someone such as myself to seek out more fleeting pleasure. Though I will say that the rumors were wrong in some regard: you’re _much_ more handsome than what I was led to believe,” his voice is low but not heated. Sidon appreciates how frank he is despite the way it makes him fluster. 

The hand on Sidon’s arm latches on, keeping him from leaving. Link stares up at Sidon, and when he doesn’t react poorly or move away, he leaves his hand in place. Link hadn’t come to the ball expecting such a _catch,_ but he isn’t one to deny an opportunity like this. 

Sidon clears his throat, loving the contact but unable to deny how flustered it has him. Link is incredibly beautiful, with long blond hair flowing freely around his shoulders and piercing blue eyes that fix him in place. Try as he may, Sidon is both unable and unwilling to look away.

With every word Link says, Sidon feels himself falling deeper into whatever could-be-love feelings the man has brought out in him. 

“Would you like to leave with me?” Sidon snaps his jaw shut. That hadn’t quite come out how he’d meant it to, but surely Link will understand what he means? Link had just told him that he knows of Sidon’s wish for love and commitment, so surely he won’t think that Sidon is requesting his… _services._

Besides, he thinks it would be rather humorous to walk out of the ball with a Hylian man, a courtesan no less. The Elders would be floored, and Muzu would get off his back for at least a week. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Link grins up at him, squeezing briefly at the prince’s forearm. Sidon nearly melts at that smile, but he manages to hold himself together. Link chuckles once more, the noise stuck somewhere between mirth and disbelief. At that, Sidon’s tail begins to flap against his neck, causing him to flush even deeper. Thankfully, Link is silent, but the impish grin he gives Sidon affects him more than teasing words could.

Sidon had avoided drawing attention to himself the entire night, but now he goes out of his way to show off the fact that Link is by his side. They traipse through the ballroom, with Link making comments and insults under his breath, just loud enough for Sidon to hear. It’s a struggle to keep himself from laughing. He’s absolutely taken by how blunt and open he is. Link is a _spitfire,_ unapologetically opinionated and funny, even in the presence of a prince. It’s refreshing in a way that Sidon has longed for for years. 

He’s sure to make eye contact with Muzu before leaving the ballroom with Link in tow. He hopes that his father won’t mind him acting out in such a way, but he has a feeling that he’ll be amused more than anything else. 

Even when they’ve left the ballroom and run out of nobles to poke fun at, Link still talks to him. Sidon hangs on his every word. Somehow, the little Hylian is captivating in a way he’s never experienced. They talk about fighting and exploring and Link’s cooking skills. Sidon finds all of these things highly unusual for a cortesan to to have experience with, but it only adds to his charm. Link is an enigma, and Sidon wants to know everything about him.

Before he knows it, they’ve arrived at Sidon’s wing of the palace. He hadn’t originally intended to invite Link inside, but he finds himself wanting to spend as much time with him as he can. 

Gentlemanly as ever, Sidon holds the door open, smiling softly when Link teases him about the gesture.

He shuts the door behind them and nearly jumps when he turns around to find Link nearly on top of him. His gills flutter, his cheeks blue once more. Before he can say a word, Link grins up at him and paws at the muscles of his abdomen, his hands teasing lower.

Sidon is gentle when he pushes Link away. He tries to talk, but his words come out as a throaty gasp. He clears his throat and tries again, “I’m sorry if I’ve given you the wrong impression. I assumed that since you knew about my search for love, you’d know I didn’t bring you here for such a purpose.”

Link looks up at him and _pouts._ Sidon is taken aback, and rushes to continue talking, “I’ve enjoyed your company immensely! It’s so refreshing to talk to someone as open and authentic as yourself. You treat me as _Sidon,_ and for that I can’t thank you enough.” He chances a look down at Link, only to find that he’s still pouting. 

Scrambling now, Sidon’s words fall from his mouth as he attempts to explain himself, “I’ve enjoyed talking to you so much, and I would like to continue doing so. I’ll still pay you for your time! I apologize if I gave you the wrong idea, and I promise that my refusal has nothing to do with you personally. In fact, I think you’re incredibly beautiful. And so charming, oh goddesses. You’re so wonderful and tempting and–” Sidon snaps his jaw shut. 

He should really stop talking.

The look that Link gives him is nothing short of predatory. Ah. Sidon had said too much. Link’s voice is low, his eyes glinting, “If you truly think those things, then why not take me as your lover, just for the night? I won’t push you into doing something you don’t want, but it sounds an awful lot like you want this, like you want _me._ ”  
  
Sidon snorts through his gills. The action is unconscious, but goddesses, Link’s words are tempting. It doesn’t help that he’s right. 

If he’s being completely honest, he feels a deep longing for Link. He hesitates to call it love, but there’s no other word for it. He can’t court a courtesan but maybe…maybe for tonight he can have this. He can have Link. It’s easy to give in to the feeling that he’s been chasing for so long.

“Okay,” he still sounds hesitant, his eyes trained on the floor. 

Link grabs at his forearm, his grip tight but not painful. Sidon knows it’s meant to catch his attention, so he looks down to meet Link’s eyes. Link cocks his head to the side, and Sidon watches his lips move beneath the sheer fabric of his veil, “Is that a yes?”

“Yes,” he says, firm and resolute. He wants this, he wants Link, no matter how fleeting it may be.

With that, Link pushes him up against the wall, surprising him with strength he wouldn’t have expected from such a small person, a Hylian no less. Sidon is tall enough that when Link sinks down to his knees, he can just barely reach his groin. 

Link wastes no time at all, licking at his slit and grabbing at his thighs. Sidon is unable to hold in his pleasured moans, surprised by how loud he’s being. He bites at his hand to stifle the noises, but Link quickly notices. He receives a harsh bite on the inside of his thigh, teeth scraping at the sensitive skin until Sidon pulls his hand away. 

“Good boy. I want to hear you,” Link whispers against his skin, kissing at the spot he’d just bitten.

Sidon should be embarrassed by how quickly his slit is leaking, but the insistent pleasure of Link’s tongue makes it easy to shove his embarrassment aside. There’s no shame in being affected by such a handsome man.

With a flash of glinting eyes, Link glances up at him before he pushes his tongue inside. Sidon _keens,_ his hips only held back from thrusting forward by the strength of Link’s hands holding him in place. 

Glancing down, Sidon is met with a sight that’s horribly arousing. The veil is bunched up around Link’s face, transparent enough that Sidon can still see his tongue pushing inside of him. The sight has him weak at the knees, a fact that Link somehow _knows,_ meeting his gaze as he fucks his tongue inside of his slit. 

Sooner than he would have thought (but really, is it so surprising with Link’s skills and Sidon’s affections?), his cocks begin to emerge from his slit. Link takes full advantage, licking at the heads, coaxing them out with a level of enthusiasm Sidon has never been on the receiving end of. When his cocks are fully emerged, hard and wanting, wet with copious amounts of slickness, he lets out a breath he didn't realize he’d been holding.

Link wastes no time, immediately pushing his cocks together and sucking at both heads at once. Sidon is barely able to hold himself up against the wall, but the reassuring hand on his hip helps to keep him in place. 

The pleasure is overwhelming, made even more intense by the way Link stares up at him throughout, never breaking eye contact. Sidon is flustered, his cheeks tinted dark blue, though he’s unable to look away. He finds that he doesn’t _want_ to look away, entranced as he is by the lust and passion gleaming in Link’s blue eyes. 

It’s as if Link is seeking to overwhelm him, to show him that somehow, impossibly, the pleasure can get even _better_ when he uses his mouth in different ways. Link is so small, yet he somehow swallows down Sidon’s cock as if it were nothing. It’s hypnotizing, watching Link push himself further onto Sidon’s cock. The veil bunches up on top of the length that Link hasn’t yet swallowed, creating an image so erotic that it’s beyond something he could think of on his own. 

When Link pushes himself further onto Sidon, his lips just barely touch at his slit. He mouths at the wetness there, tonguing at the cock in his mouth. The veil is still bunched up around his face, emphasizing just how _full_ his mouth is. Sidon’s other cock is pushed up against the bottom of Link’s jaw, and he cries out when Link tilts his head to rub the bottom of his face against it, causing it to twitch. Sidon can’t look away, but he’s sure that seeing Link like this will have him coming much too soon. 

One hand pins Sidon down by his hips, both keeping him from pushing forward into Link’s mouth and helping to support his near-buckling knees. Link brings his other hand up below his mouth, rubbing at the head of Sidon’s cock. Having them both stimulated at once…it’s beyond overwhelming. 

Link pulls back, the bunches in the veil pulling slack to drape over Sidon’s cock while he sucks at the head. Sidon is fixated on his lips, on the way they’re stretched wide around his length. Link moves his mouth once more, swallowing him all at once, his veil bunching up yet again. At the same time, he strokes Sidon’s other cock roughly, his movements working in time with his mouth. 

A rhythm is quickly established like that, Link fucking him with both his mouth and his hand. Drool and slick covers his cock in copious amounts, some of the liquid dripping down to further wet his other cock, some of it falling to the floor in a slick mess.

What Link lacks in size, he certainly makes up for with everything else. He fucks Sidon with vigor, pulling back to suckle at his head before swallowing him down in nearly an instant. He never chokes, though there’s a constant stream of drool and slick leaking around the cock in his mouth and down his face. 

There’s something strangely erotic about the way the veil covers his face, how it bunches up around the length of Sidon’s cock but is transparent enough that he’s able to see _everything._

Sidon is close. He isn’t sure how long Link has been fucking him like this, but he’s quickly nearing the edge. Link’s pace is fast but incredibly thorough. He isn’t rough, but it’s clear that his intention is to overwhelm Sidon with pleasure, to make him incapable of thinking about anything else. Throughout it all, Link’s blue eyes bore into Sidon’s gold, and as strange as it sounds, Sidon feels that they’re communicating with their eyes alone. He’s never felt so connected to another person. 

The room is loud with the sounds of their passion. Sidon lets out a constant slew of moans and whines, doing nothing to hold in his noises, just as Link had demanded of him. Link grunts and occasionally moans around his cock. He gets especially loud when Sidon twitches in his mouth or becomes even more wet with slick and precum. Most arousing of all is the wet slapping sounds of Link’s hand working his slick length and the slurping noises Link makes around the cock in his mouth. Sidon can’t focus on just one sound, so he lets all of it overwhelm him, the noises arousing him further.

All along, he’s been unsure what to do with his hands, awkwardly fisting them at his sides. He wants to touch Link, to feel him in every way possible, but he isn’t sure what the etiquette is with this type of situation. 

Link pulls off his cock, causing Sidon to whine. He’s silenced by a harsh nip to his inner thigh, Link’s voice low and notably raspy, “I want you to touch me. You can play with my hair, but you’re not allowed to pull it or use it to pull me onto your cock. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Sidon says, eyes pleading. 

“Good boy,” Link kisses the head of his cock. The veil bunches up once more as he swallows Sidon down.

When Sidon doesn’t move his hands right away, Link lets go of his hip and grabs at Sidon’s hands himself, moving them to the back of his head so that they’re able to play with the length of his golden hair. Satisfied that Sidon will listen to him, Link pushes at his hip once more, holding him firmly in place. 

Link is consistent with his pace and thoroughness, steadily bringing Sidon to the edge. What pushes him over is the way Link moans around his cock when it twitches in his mouth. The noise Link makes reverberates around the length of his cock, and then he’s coming down his throat. 

To Link’s credit, he swallows without complaint, doing so with fervor. 

Sidon nearly shakes, his knees close to finally collapsing from the force of his orgasm. The pleasure is so intense that he sees black for a split second, and then he’s coming down from his climax to the sight of Link sucking him absolutely dry. 

A cursory glance down reveals that the veil is still bunched up against Link’s face and that his neck is covered in cum. 

He rushes to apologize, but he’s quickly hushed by Link. Kisses and tiny licks are placed along his cocks and slit, Link urging them back inside with gentle pleasure. Sidon has never thought to follow up an orgasm with such sweetness, but he adores the feeling in a way he can’t put into words. 

“I want to make you come, too,” Sidon rushes to say, clearing his throat, “If that would please you.”

Link looks stunned, still on his knees and staring up at Sidon. He chuckles then, his eyes closing with the force of his laughter. His voice is still the slightest bit raspy, “You know, the way this all works is that it’s typically about the client. But if that’s what you really want, I’d never say no to such a proposal from _you._ ”

They’re quick to fall onto Sidon’s bed, Link pushing him onto the mattress and directing him where to lay. 

“I want to ride your face,” Link pauses, considering his words, “Fuck your mouth, really. Is that alright with you?”

The choked noise Sidon makes is an indication of just how _alright_ he finds the idea, but he still voices his agreement. 

Link clambers up to straddle his face, his movements somehow graceful. Sidon had thought that his long skirts would get in the way, but instead of removing them, Link hikes them up, revealing a long slit up the side. Using the slit to his advantage, Link pulls all of the fabric off to one side, tying up the length of his skirts but keeping them on his body. 

Finally settled, Link grins down at Sidon before sinking down, his cock already hard and wanting. 

Sidon isn’t sure where Link wants his mouth, at first, but it’s quickly made clear that Link will tell him just what he wants. Link grabs at the headboard, angling his hips so that he can fuck his cock into Sidon’s mouth. They’re both careful of the sharpness of his teeth, Link telling him not to close his mouth. 

He hadn’t expected to get off as well, but Link won’t deny how good it is. Sidon’s tongue is long and thick, and it laves up and down the length of his cock in a way that’s undeniably erotic. With some urging, Sidon works to wrap it around the head of his cock, snaking the wet length of his tongue over the most sensitive part of him. He starts to tilt his hips, working his cock in earnest. 

How lovely it would be if Sidon had two tongues, just as he has two cocks. Sadly, he doesn’t, so Link pulls away from Sidon’s mouth, moving his hips so that his taint hovers over him. He directs the prince to stick his tongue out, and he proceeds to tease himself with it, working his hips so that it drags along his taint over and over again. 

Finally growing impatient, Link addresses Sidon, “I need you _inside._ Are you willing to do that for me?” He chuckles at the eager way Sidon nods his head, his head fins bouncing about with the movement, his tail flapping against his neck.

“Good boy,” he whispers, allowing Sidon to lick across his hole. He lets Sidon push inside, but he quickly takes control, sinking his hips down to push more of Sidon’s tongue inside of himself. It’s good, so _fucking_ good. 

Link is nearly lost, though it still isn’t enough. He may be getting greedy, but he wants Sidon both inside of him and around his cock. He’s willing to get creative to get what he wants.

“Keep your tongue inside of me, as deep as you can. Open your mouth. I’m going to fuck you there again,” Sidon groans his approval, and Link gently strokes across his crest and head fins, whispering praises and “good boy”s, delighting in just how much such simple words excite the prince. 

The angle is somewhat awkward, but Link manages. He’s strong enough to hold himself up on the headboard, his thighs clamping down around Sidon’s face. He chuckles at the moan he receives from that, but wastes no time in pushing his cock back into Sidon’s mouth. 

Still careful of his teeth, Link fucks into Sidon’s mouth in earnest, allowing him to use his tongue however he pleases. He’d needed this, needed both, needed _Sidon._

With a moan that borders on a growl, Link comes into Sidon’s mouth, delighting in the way his tongue writhes about inside of him. 

He loses himself in the bliss of his orgasm, brought down by Sidon’s hands petting at his thighs and his tongue licking softly at his twitching hole. Belatedly, Link realizes that he’d all but collapsed on top of Sidon’s face. He scrambles to straddle his chest instead, assessing just how out of it he is.

As pleasurable of an experience that had been, Link hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of things. He takes a long moment to catch his breath and collect himself, loving the way his thighs shake with exertion. 

A quick glance down at Sidon reveals that he’s wearing a lovesick grin, and it’s so endearing that Link almost feels bad for what he’s about to do. He’s never liked someone, not like this, not to the point of having sex and being unable to deny the feelings welling up in his chest. 

With quick movements, Link pulls a long dagger from its sheath on his thigh, pressing it up against the prince’s throat. 

He watches as Sidon sucks in a breath, the dopey look of love and pleasure gone from his eyes, surprise and fear quickly taking its place. 

“I’m sorry,” and he is, “But I’m going to have to ask you to give me all of your money.” He pushes the dagger further against Sidon’s throat; they both know he isn’t really asking. 

More emotions flit through Sidon’s eyes, and Link isn’t sure if his voice sounds choked because of the knife at his throat or the confusion he’s surely experiencing, “I thought…I thought you were a courtesan?”

So many things click together in Sidon’s mind, realization dawning on his face. Courtesans don’t know about fighting or adventuring or cooking. They aren’t known to be so bossy with clients. And they _certainly_ don’t carry daggers on their person. Link is a _thief,_ yet he can’t bring himself to be upset about that fact.

“Maybe you shouldn’t make assumptions,” Link whispers against his cheek. 

Sidon watches as Link removes his veil with his free hand, tucking it away somewhere in his skirts. He should feel betrayed, but he’s still only able to feel that deep longing that he has to call love.

A searing kiss is placed against his lips, somehow soft and passionate at the same time. When Link pulls away, Sidon moves to chase him and continue the kiss, only to be stopped by the dagger pushed against his throat. 

Link’s free hand reaches behind him, patting at Sidon’s belt to find the pouch at his hip. How had Link known it was there?

Maybe it’s Sidon being hopeful, but the glint in Link’s eyes looks different. It’s something he wouldn’t quite call love, but there’s no other word for it. Sidon can’t court a courtesan, but Link _isn’t_ a courtesan, so maybe…?

“I have to go now,” when Sidon pouts, Link whispers his agreement, “But I do want to see you again. Make sure that you don’t invite any _real_ courtesans into your bed before I come back for you.”

Link whispers, low enough that Sidon can barely hear him, “I hate that you’ve made me feel this way, but I’m unable to deny that I’m quite taken with you. Wait for me to come back, and maybe then I’ll let you court me like the lovesick fool you are.” 

With a smirk and a softer, shorter kiss, Link takes the knife away and gets up off of his chest. Sidon whines as he watches him go, but he makes no move to stop him. 

Link leaves quickly, gone as if he was never there. Sidon sits up, and something flutters off of his chest and onto his lap. It’s a soft blue in color, and when Sidon picks it up, he realizes that it’s the transparent fabric of Link’s veil. His face dusts blue to match, his heart fluttering at the sight. 

As obnoxious as balls are, this one turned out _different._ The Elders will be more than pleased to know that their plan worked. Sidon has finally found someone who has laid claim to his heart, and he knows deep down that Link reciprocates that feeling that is he knows is called love. 


	16. Sidlink - Intercrural Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sidlink brainrot. Literally everything I write for them I'm like "THEY'RE IN LOVE CAN YOU TELL HOW IN LOVE THEY ARE." I do not know why I am like that but I will not stop.

Link wants Sidon inside of him. There’s nothing in the world that he wants more. But the fact is, he has a long day of Lynel hunting awaiting him in the morning, and he _really_ can’t afford to be sore when fighting the most dangerous creatures in all of Hyrule. 

He’s on his way to the Domain, gliding down from Shatterback Point. The Blood Moon had just risen, and Link always kills the Lynel near Zora’s Domain as soon as the moon fades from red to white. The Lynel is weak enough that he can take it down the night before the _real_ hunt begins, and it serves as a convenient excuse to spend the night with his prince. 

After an awkward landing near the pavilion at the East Reservoir Lake, he rushes toward the Domain on foot, eager to see Sidon. 

They catch sight of each other at the same time. Sidon is standing in the throne room when Link summits the stairs, and after a long moment staring at one another, Link rushes into Sidon’s arms. He’s lifted into the air and spun around more than once, laughing and smiling more than he had since the last time they’d been together. 

Link pulls him into a kiss, whining when Sidon pulls away before he can lick his way into his mouth. With a smile brighter than the Luminous Stones that line the Domain, Sidon sets him down and grabs his hand. Link is eager to follow the prince to his quarters.

Reeking of Lynel blood, Link is pushed into Sidon’s sleeping pool and told to wash himself off. He splutters out a protest, but smiles to himself. He’s surely a mess, yet Sidon had welcomed him with open arms when others would have turned him away. It’s little things like that that make Link fall even deeper in love with his prince.

After a quick rinse ( _not_ a bath, he’s too impatient for that right now), Link pushes Sidon onto their bed, his naked body still dripping water onto the floor. 

Insistent as ever, Sidon wants to towel him dry before he soaks their sheets (though they’ll need to be changed soon enough, anyway). Link obliges him with an exaggerated huff, but they both know that he’s happy to be spoiled. 

Once Link is dry, he pushes Sidon back onto the bed, this time joining him. He takes his time to kiss his prince breathless, mercilessly using his tongue and lips and teeth. He nibbles at Sidon’s lips, licks at the points of his sharp teeth and then past them to push inside of his mouth. Sidon is anything but quiet, letting out soft moans and sighs every time Link’s tongue touches his own. 

Though he’s eager to delve into pleasure, Link finds himself lingering on Sidon’s mouth, enjoying the simple bliss of kisses so filled with love that he can practically _taste_ it.

When he pulls away, he speaks his first words of the night, “You know what I have to do tomorrow.” 

Sidon nods, well aware of his habits, and Link continues talking, “As much as I want you inside of me, we can’t do that tonight,” Sidon whines, only silenced by soft touches to his head fins and crest. Link has something else in mind: “I want to try something new tonight. I promise that the next time I come to visit, you can fuck me with _both_ of your cocks. How does that sound?”

His prince’s blown-out eyes and fluttering gills are an answer on their own, but Link waits for his words. Sidon takes a moment to gather himself, his words coming out in half-growled gasps, “That sounds perfect, my pearl. You’re perfect. I am eager for whatever you want to try, as long as it will be satisfying for us both.”

Link chuckles, “It’ll be more than just _satisfying._ ”   
  
With one last kiss, Link pulls away. He maneuvers Sidon into a better position, pleased by how pliant he is. Sidon has always been captivated by his strength, so Link is sure to show off as much as possible. He pushes and pulls Sidon into place with ease, laying sweet kisses across his skin. Finally, Link lays down so that he’s on his side, Sidon holding him from behind. 

“What exactly are you wanting to do?” Sidon asks, always curious. Link strokes at the hand wrapped around his middle, bringing it up to his mouth to place a kiss on each of Sidon’s claws. 

“You’ll see,” his grin is audible, his voice heated.

He tilts his hips back, grinding his ass into Sidon’s sheath. He’s pleased to feel that his slit is already leaking. The feeling of Sidon’s slick across his ass is uniquely erotic, so he grinds against him again, wanting to make even more of a mess. 

Sidon is loud, moaning and grunting close to Link’s ears. They’re pressed so close together that when he lets out one of those loud, rumbling moans, Link can feel it shake through his frame. He reaches a hand back, fingering at Sidon’s slit until his cocks begin to emerge. Pulling his hand away, Link resumes his grinding, seeking to coax Sidon’s cocks out with the plump flesh of his ass.

The feeling of Sidon’s hard lengths pressing up against him is heavenly. It’s dangerously tempting, and Link has to fight with himself so that he won’t ask Sidon to fuck him.

He grabs Sidon’s hand, bringing it to the seam of his thighs. The skin is soft there despite being littered with scars, his legs thick with muscle. Sidon seems confused until Link forces his hand between his thighs. He looks behind him, craning his head up, up to meet Sidon’s eyes. 

His words tumble from his lips like a prayer, though he’s much more willing to fall to his knees for Sidon than any goddess. He voices his intentions, “I want you to fuck me here. Is that okay?”

A growl reverberates through Link’s body, and he watches as Sidon’s eyes blow out once again. He pets at the hand wedged between his legs, waiting for an answer.

“ _Yes,_ ” Sidon growls out the word. 

Link pulls Sidon’s hand to his mouth for a kiss. Letting go, he raises his leg off the bed. Using a hand to pull at his thigh, Link spreads his legs further, creating space for Sidon. 

The wetness of Sidon’s cocks smears against his thigh and goddesses, Link loves it like nothing else. He loves being a mess, loves being covered in Sidon’s cum and slick, the weight of his cocks heavy on his skin or in his mouth or wherever it is he needs them. For now, he lets out a pleased hum before releasing his thigh, allowing his legs to close tightly. Sidon is left with a narrow passage of flesh to fuck into, and by the moan he lets out when Link closes his legs, Link is sure that his prince will enjoy himself.

Sidon’s hand grabs at his hip, his claws digging in deep enough to leave marks, though he doesn’t draw blood. Link voices his approval to Sidon, and is nearly flung forward with the force of his initial thrust. 

It takes more effort than he would have thought to keep his legs closed tightly around Sidon, but the wet mess his thighs are becoming is motivation enough. Despite the unexpected effort, Link’s legs are _strong,_ the result of endless hours spent horseback riding, climbing, and walking across Hyrule. He’ll have no problem holding himself in place for his prince.

Low grunts and groans fill the air, and Link can occasionally hear Sidon gnash his teeth together, his jaw closing with a loud _snap._ He longs to be between those teeth, but instead he focuses on the sensation of Sidon fucking between his legs.

As unique of an experience as this is, and as much pleasure as Sidon’s noises and slickness and waning control are bringing him, Link needs _stimulation._ With a frustrated growl of his own, he pulls Sidon’s hand from his hip, moaning at the way his claws dig into his skin in protest. Link is stronger than Sidon, so he pulls his hand to his cock, not letting go until Sidon has wrapped his fist around his length. It gives a weak twitch at the contact, precum dribbling out from the tip. 

Link joins Sidon now, making nearly as much noise as his lover. He pokes a hand between his thighs, collecting some of the slick that coats them to slather against his cock. At one point, the tips of Sidon’s cocks brush against his hand, causing his prince to cry out even louder. When Sidon thrusts into his thighs again, Link is waiting, ready to tease his cocks during the fleeting moment he has access to them. He leaves his hand in place, repeating the motion over and over.

They’re both close. Link can tell by the strength of Sidon’s grunts and the way his ears have begun to twitch. His thighs are shaking, but that’s due to the exertion it takes to keep them held tight around Sidon more than anything else. 

Though they’re both nearing orgasm and already loud, Link begins to talk, spewing praises and erotic descriptions of the mess Sidon that has made of his thighs, telling him just how _good_ it feels. 

Link is taken by surprise when he comes first. His orgasm has his ears twitching, his thighs truly shaking now. Through his haze, he can barely register Sidon continuing to thrust his cocks between his thighs, growling and jerking Link off through his orgasm. 

He’s just barely come down when Sidon reaches his own climax. His orgasm is loud and clearly intense based on the way he bites down on Link’s shoulder. It isn’t quite as hard as he’d like it to be, but he appreciates that even in the throes of pleasure, Sidon is still gentle with him. Link clamps his legs together, impossibly tighter, feeling slick build up between his thighs and cum pooling on the sheets in front of him. 

Sidon is panting behind him, his breaths loud and shaky. He allows Sidon to pull himself out from between his legs, not wanting to overstimulate him by brushing against his sensitive cocks. 

When Sidon pulls away from him with a slick squelching noise, Link immediately turns around, pulling him down into a fierce kiss. 

They don’t need words to express their love, not when they can kiss the way they are, tongues moving as if to _consume_ the other. When Link pulls away, he tells Sidon that he loves him anyway, delighted when he hears those three echoed back to him in return.

Sidon insists that they clean up, but Link would rather bask in the slick between his legs and the cum painted across his abdomen. Sidon is right, but Link begs for just a minute more. His prince is never one to deny him. 

When Sidon finally cleans them both up, Link sinks into his embrace. He allows himself to be held, basking in the warmth and comfort of Sidon, wrapping himself around his lover as they exchange more “I love you”s. He has a long day ahead of him, but if he can return to Sidon for more of _this_ (not just the sex, the love and the intimacy and the sweet whispered words mean just as much), then he’ll gladly kill every Lynel in Hyrule.

Besides, he’d promised his prince that he could fuck him with both of his cocks, and Link plans on fulfilling that promise as soon as possible.


	17. Midzelink - Threesome

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First time writing the three of them and wow I have so many other ideas I didn't have time for. Post Kinktober there will be more I love them.

Midna and Zelda have both noticed the different sides of Link. With Midna, he’s easily pushed into being submissive, and he _loves_ doing whatever she asks of him. He loves it almost as much when she allows him to let loose on her, but it’s clear that they’re both inclined toward sex with Midna in control. With Zelda, Link is different. She’s unable to push him into submissiveness because she _isn’t_ Midna. They don’t exude the same dark dominance, and while Zelda is by no means a pillow princess, Link becomes the pushy one when it’s just the two of them. 

Though Link travels between Hyrule and the Twilight Realm the most out of the three of them, that doesn’t stop Midna and Zelda from spending time together on their own. They both know of Link’s proclivity for submissiveness, and while Zelda isn’t particularly inclined to push him there herself, she wants to see that side of him. It’s easy enough to come up with a plan to spoil and overwhelm their dear hero. Zelda allows Midna to take charge of the situation, content to go along with whatever the Twili Queen wishes.

It isn’t often that the three of them are able to be together at once, but every time they are, the experience is like no other. They love each other beyond sex, of course, but it does allow them to share their love in a form that words can’t always convey. 

Soon enough, Midna’s plan comes to fruition. Zelda is able to steal away from the castle for a night—for once not overwhelmed by her royal duties—and she’s sure to have Link “escort” her to the Twilight Realm. 

They’ve barely exchanged greetings with Midna before she’s pulling them both to her quarters, eager and insistent, as always. 

Link is caught off guard when _both_ of his queens descend upon him, fighting playfully with one another to kiss him. Eventually, Midna nudges Zelda away from his mouth, pushing her tongue inside. Link is quick to moan and open up for her, jolting when Zelda begins to kiss and lick at his neck.

He becomes a mess rather quickly. Having Midna claim his mouth while Zelda bites at his neck is overwhelming, and Link is unused to both of them attending to him like this. 

Soon enough, he’s pushed back toward the bed by Midna. He eagerly obeys her silent command, allowing her to shove him down into the mattress in a clumsy pile of limbs. She stands at the foot of the bed, chuckling at his dazed expression and laying a soft kiss on Zelda’s lips. 

With a snap of Midna’s fingers, all of their clothes vanish. Link is caught off guard, but not as much as Zelda, who squeals and whispers hotly into Midna’s ear. Despite Link’s enhanced hearing, he isn’t sure what she’s saying. Midna’s smirk is twofold; whatever Zelda is saying must be causing her smugness, though Link knows by the glint in her eyes that she’s using her magic to keep him from listening in on their conversation. 

After they’ve finished talking, they both join him on the bed. Midna devours his mouth again, and Zelda grabs at his cock. 

Link grunts loudly, not expecting such forwardness from _Zelda,_ from either of them really. He’d expected to be teased, made to beg, yet Zelda is already touching him. He cants his hips up toward her touch, but as soon as he does, the contact is gone. Maybe he’s being teased, after all. 

“Link, darling,” Zelda starts, kissing at his neck without the licks and bites he craves.

“We have something in mind for you,” continues Midna, taking on that dark tone he’s all too familiar with. Link almost cries out from the sound of her voice alone, but he keeps quiet so that she’ll continue talking, “Zelda wants me to show her just how much of a _good boy_ you can be. How does that sound?”

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s no secret that he loves it when Midna takes charge, and while he knows Zelda isn’t the type to do the same, the idea of her being a part of the experience…it’s nearly too much. He clears his throat, struggling to find the right words to express his enthusiasm, “Yes, goddesses yes. Please, Midna,” he turns to face Zelda, kissing at her soft hair, “You too. I want both of you, in whatever ways you’ll have me.”

Midna smirks at him as if she’d already known what he would say, and really, it isn’t as if Link would have answered with anything but enthusiasm. 

With a last, searing kiss, she finally pulls away from Link, who whines in response. She beckons Zelda away as well, causing Link to whine even more. 

They settle down on opposite sides of his hips, leaning over on top of him to kiss one another. The sight of Link’s two queens together in such a way has his cock straining beneath them. They’re gorgeous beyond comparison on their own, but together like this…words can’t do them justice.

Pulling away from Zelda, Midna moves to settle between Link’s legs. She pushes his thighs apart with her hands, spreading his legs as wide as they’ll go. Link flushes red to the tips of his ears. Having Midna between his legs, staring up at him with fire glinting in her eyes—he’s going to be undone in the best of ways. 

Not one to be forgotten, Zelda still sits at his side, where she bends down to kiss at the head of Link’s cock. Link moans in response, eyes frantically moving between his two queens. Logically, he should focus on Midna, who is sure to push him into perfect submission, but Zelda is just as beautiful and demanding of his attention. Midna takes advantage of one of the moments Link stares at Zelda, pushing her head between his legs and giving the smallest of licks to the base of his cock. Link cries out but holds still. 

Midna licks a hot stripe against his hole, and Link’s moan tears through him, his back arching up off the bed. He’d expected Midna to control him in whatever way she pleases, but he hadn’t expected her to want to _take him,_ not with Zelda there. A cursory glance at Zelda reveals wide eyes and a blush just as intense as his own, red ears and all. The fact that she’s enjoying this—enjoying Midna pushing him around—sends heat straight between his legs, his cock twitching eagerly. 

“Oh puppy,” Midna coos, tracing her finger around his hole but not where he needs it most, “I’m going to fuck you now. I want you to show your queens just how well you take it. Is that alright?” 

Link moans his approval, following the noise with a choked, simple, “Yes.”

With a snap from Midna, her finger presses back against his hole, now slick with lubricant. Link tilts his hips toward her, trying to push her inside. Hands hold his hips down to the bed—Zelda’s—while Midna chastises him for his impatience. 

Her teasing only increases, serving as punishment for his actions. Instead of pushing inside of him, she continues to circle around and around his hole, directing Zelda to kiss at his cock. The feeling of her soft lips against his shaft is heavenly, but he wants her mouth, her tongue, whatever it is she’ll give him as long as it’s more than the fleeting touches of her lips against his heated skin. 

When Midna decides he’s whined and moaned enough (he isn’t allowed to move, but he’s _always_ encouraged to be as loud as he needs to be), she stops her teasing. She revels in his noises, in the way they fall from his lips so naturally, with such openness. Pulling out one last moan from him, she finally takes mercy. 

Placing a lingering kiss against his hole, Midna moves her mouth away and pushes inside of him with her finger. Link cries out, his moan spiking in intensity and volume when Midna tells Zelda to start licking his cock. 

To have Midna inside of him, taking him so perfectly, while Zelda licks up and down his shaft, tongue laving at the head—it’s enough to push him toward the edge. He prides himself in his stamina, but with both of his queens on him like this, it takes conscious effort to keep himself from nearing the edge too quickly. 

Another finger is added after a while, sliding into him with a slick _squelch._ Link fists his hands into the sheets, knowing better than to pull at Midna’s hair and unsure what’s alright with Zelda in such a new scenario.

Midna tells Zelda to start sucking his cock, though she pulls away for a kiss first. Link watches as they kiss once more, their tongues moving against one another as Midna takes in the taste of him. Midna bites at Zelda’s lip, just on the right side of harsh, and she pulls away to do as she’s told. 

Zelda’s mouth feels like heaven. She sucks at the head of his cock before she takes the rest of him, but even that is enough to have him reeling. Never one to be outdone and always seeking to be the center of attention, Midna lets out a dark chuckle. 

With two fingers inside of him, it’s easy for Midna to widen them, spreading Link apart. He nearly _screams_ when she bends down and licks inside of him, her tongue delving between her fingers. She quite literally holds him open, wide enough that her long tongue is able to push into him with ease. Link knows all too well that her tongue is longer than a Hylian’s, but she’s sure to remind him of that fact as she pushes it deeper inside of him, wriggling it about in a wet, sloppy, noisy _mess._ Link _is_ a mess, truly, made this way by the ministrations of his queens. 

Timing as amazing (or is it horrible? Link really isn’t sure now) as ever, Zelda swallows down the rest of his cock, pushing past the head until her lips are wrapped tightly around the base of him.

Link is going to come. He’s held out for long enough, and he’s going to come within seconds. The loud, high-pitched moan he lets out must somehow voice his thoughts to Midna (has she truly made him come enough times that she knows exactly what he sounds like?), because she pulls her tongue away from Link, leaving him empty but for the tip of a single finger. She pats at Zelda’s hair though she doesn’t yank or tug, encouraging her to pull away. When Zelda does, she pants slightly for breath, her lips swollen as saliva drips down her chin. Link closes his eyes for just a moment, the sight too much after having his orgasm yanked away so suddenly.

Midna traces a finger along the v-line of his muscled abdomen. He knows it’s her because of the sharpness of her claw. The touches are gentle aside from the occasionally long press of the point into his skin. He moans at a particularly insistent scratch, her claws against his inner thigh now, and opens his eyes to stare down at both of his queens. Midna is still grinning smugly, while Zelda is awed as she stares up at him, her eyes glancing between his own and the hardness of his cock, never flagging.

He moans and babbles, begging for something incoherent though they all know what he wants, even without the right words. Instead of touching him, they both watch and listen as he falls apart.

“Zelda,” Midna’s voice breaks through his desperation, “Link needs his mouth full to keep quiet when he gets like this. Usually I like to listen to him, but I have a much better use for that babbling now. I can’t kiss him since I’m busy here,” she brushes her finger against his prostate for half a second, the tip still inside of him, “But I think you’ll do a fine job. Is that alright with you, Link?”

When he doesn’t respond right away, Midna pushes further inside of him, pressing and _holding_ her finger against his prostate until he’s babbling once more. This time a long string of “yes” and “please” falls from his lips. 

The pressure against his prostate eases, and Link feels as put together as a Chu, nearly sinking into the bed at the sudden change in intensity.

“Alright Zelda, go sit on his face,” Midna urges, her voice dripping with darkness and sweetness mixed together into a sticky, all-consuming mess.

Link watches as Zelda clambers up his body, staring into his eyes the entire time. She places a soft kiss on his lips, asking if he’s alright with this. Link is quick to nod, finding it sweet that she’d wanted to check again. He loves her, loves both of them, and he’s quick to voice his “I love you” aloud, knowing they’ll both receive it.

Zelda is absolutely _soaked._ She pushes herself down onto Link’s face, and it’s clear that unlike Midna, she won’t be fucking herself on his mouth. The way her thighs tremble tells him as much, but Link knows from prior experience with them both that Midna prefers to fuck his mouth in earnest while Zelda wants to be pushed to the edge by Link.

He’s surprised when Zelda sits down fully, pressing her thighs against his head and pushing her pussy into his face. She may not be fucking herself, but she’s emboldened enough by Midna to drown Link in the heat of her body. 

Left with no choice (and not wanting anything else), Link pushes his tongue inside of Zelda, licking at her wetness. He seals his lips around her, pushing as deep as his tongue is able to reach. 

A sudden moan tears through him and reverberates into Zelda. Midna has started to fuck him again in earnest, though she’s sucking his cock now too. Link can’t see her, his view obstructed by Zelda, but somehow it’s more intense knowing that he’s at the mercy of his more dominant, volatile lover, unable to do anything but _feel her._

He doesn’t last long, this time, not with Zelda clamped down tight around him and Midna fucking him, her fingers pressing insistently against his prostate. 

His ears twitch along with his cock with his release, Midna’s mouth hot around him. Link’s entire body trembles with the force of his orgasm. 

In the aftermath of his orgasm, he sinks into the bed bonelessly, though he still licks weakly at Zelda. She shifts her hips so that he has access to her clit. As blissed out as he is, he still licks and sucks at her clit, wanting her to come with the same intensity he had. 

Soon enough, Zelda is trembling above him, crying out softly as she relaxes so much into her climax that she collapses on top of him, falling to the side of Link’s face and finally allowing him to see. 

Zelda lays panting on the bed next to him, her thighs shaking. Her hair is a mess, her skin shiny with sweat, the inside of her thighs slick with wetness. She looks _perfect._

He’s barely come down when another chuckle, the darkest one yet, echoes through his ears. 

Link looks to Midna, only to be met with a fire blazing in the depths of her red eyes. She licks her lips, catching a stray drop of his cum. She leans forward to place a wet, lingering kiss on the twitching head of his cock. 

She crawls up his body now, nearing his face. 

“It’s my turn, now,” her voice promises so many things, offering so many temptations, and Link wants it all, whatever she’s willing to give him.

He doesn’t know if she plans to follow suit after Zelda or if she has something else in mind, but the glint in her eyes and the heat of her skin pressed against his own shows him just how wanting she is.

Whatever Midna asks of him, he’ll eagerly oblige.


	18. Ghiralink - Bloodplay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops almost vampire Ghirahim bc that is so sexy. Lowkey inspired by [this art](https://crimsontentacles.tumblr.com/post/134761910020/ghiralink-vampireau-because-well-why-not) by crimsontentacles on tumblr.

“Why are your teeth so…sharp?” 

Link’s timing is less than stellar. Ghirahim has him backed up against a tree, pinning him in place with a sword at his neck. Instead of listening to Ghirahim’s long spiel about how he needs to train more, Link is fixated on his mouth. With each word Ghirahim speaks, Link is drawn to the flash of sharp teeth, unable to focus on anything else.

Of all of the silly questions Link has asked, this is one of the few that manages to stun Ghirahim into silence instead of causing him to spout off about how clueless Link is. The sword held against his neck is pulled away, though Ghirahim doesn’t stop crowding him against the tree. His mouth hangs open, and well, it certainly _seems_ like an invitation.

When Link’s finger makes contact with the sharp point of one of Ghirahim’s canines, the Demon Lord jerks back as if he’d been shocked.

“What, pray tell, are you _doing?_ ” He hisses out. It’s a demand more than a question.

Link has the decency to look sheepish. He shrugs weakly, unsure how to answer. Apparently it _hadn’t_ been an invitation. He decides to be honest: “You didn’t answer my question, and I was curious.”

Ghirahim huffs in response. Despite finding Link’s candidness amusing, he’s frustrated by his tendency to act without thinking (though not enough to move away).

“My teeth are sharp because I’m a demon. That’s just how things are,” he huffs once more.

Somehow, Link has a feeling that there’s more to it. Taking a chance, he presses further, “Are you sure?”

“Am I–” he cuts himself off to glare at Link, “Of course I’m sure!”

There’s definitely more to it. Link takes a step forward. He waits for Ghirahim to react or pull away, and when he doesn’t, Link takes another step. Away from the tree but still very much in each other’s space, Link crowds up against Ghirahim. His words are nearly a whisper, meant only for the Demon Lord, “I don’t believe you.”

It only takes four words to have Ghirahim completely flabbergasted. Link hadn’t expected such a result, but it’s admittedly amusing to watch Ghirahim struggle to find the right words to tell him off. He thinks he catches the tiniest glimpse of red dusting across pale cheeks, but it’s gone before he can be sure. In an instant, Ghirahim is collected once more, as if he’d never been affected at all.

“Fine. If you really want a lesson on the intricacies of demons—which I was _only_ withholding because I doubt that your simple mind could comprehend such complexity—I’ll indulge you. But if we’re not going to continue sparring, I’d like to return home rather than talk out here,” Ghirahim’s words have a distinct edge to them that Link can’t figure out.

With a nod of his head, Link holds his hand out for Ghirahim to take. In mere seconds, they’re standing in the bedroom of Link’s cabin in Faron Woods.

Link takes the time to remove his boots and gear. If asked, he’d deny treating Ghirahim’s sword with particular care, but his reverence is clear in the way he removes it from his back and hangs it gently on the single weapon mount in the room. In contrast, the rest of his gear is dropped to the ground with a loud _thunk._

He sits cross-legged on the bed, removing his hat to brush through his hair with his fingers. He tilts his head toward Ghirahim in a silent invitation, sighing quietly when he stubbornly remains at the foot of the bed, standing tall and looking down at Link.

“As you already know, I draw energy from our bond as master and sword. But beyond being a Sword Spirit, I am also a demon. I can choose to draw energy from many things, but I have no need to do so because of the nature of our bond. So while my fangs may have a more…practical purpose…using them for that reason is unnecessary,” he stares down at Link as he speaks, never breaking eye contact.

Link thinks he understands, but he has to be sure. 

“ _Practical purpose?_ ” He questions, and that tiny hint of a blush is back. It disappears once more, but it’s there long enough that Link is sure that that’s what it is.

“They’re used to _devour._ Do you understand, Skychild? They’re used to tear at flesh and blood, and oh how they _ache_ for it. It isn’t the blood itself that provides me with energy, but the fear or pleasure or whatever emotions come with it. Is your curiosity sated yet? I’m becoming bored of explaining everything to you,” he grins in a way that emphasizes the sharp points of his fangs. Link should be afraid, worried, _anything_ but aroused.

“Do you…want to drink from me?” He isn’t quite sure how to word the question, finally breaking eye contact.

Dark, throaty chuckles fill the small bedroom, and Link’s eyes are drawn back toward Ghirahim, only to see him bent over at the waist with the force of his laughter, “I don’t think you understand the intimacy of what you’re suggesting.”

“You’re right,” at that, Ghirahim smirks at him once more, “I don’t. But I still want it, now that I do.”

“You shouldn’t make offers that you’re unable to fulfill, Link,” Ghirahim is suddenly serious in both tone and expression, his gray eyes burning into Link’s but lacking any warmth. 

Link chokes on his words—there’s so much he wants to say. He’s overflowing with feelings that have been building up for so long. His voice is raspy but his conviction is clear, “We only kissed once, so long ago, but I’ve wanted to do it again ever since. You’re all I think about, but you didn’t seem interested in me like that and I didn’t want to push you away. Ghirahim, I _crave_ intimacy with you, so I wouldn’t make you an offer like that unless I meant it.”

“ _Oh_ _–_ ” the slightest blush erupts across his cheeks, and this time it doesn’t fade away. “I thought…I didn’t think you meant that. It was so long ago that I thought you’d forgotten, and to think, you’ve been feeling this way all along.”

Ghirahim’s eyes burn with warmth and something deeper, “If you still want me to drink from you, then I’ll oblige, but I require something in return.”

Link gulps, unsure of what Ghirahim will ask for, “What is it?”

“Kiss me again and show me you mean it. If I’m convinced, I’ll show you the _true_ purpose of a Demon Lord’s fangs,” his voice is dark but not insidious, the air thick with his presence.

“Come here then,” Link beckons for Ghirahim to join him on the bed.

Sitting across from one another, it’s easy enough for Link to crawl into Ghirahim’s lap. He takes his time to stroke at the soft skin of his face, to run his fingers through the silky curtain of his hair. He holds Ghirahim’s face in his hands as if it’s something precious (and it is), and after many long moments of _finally_ being able to touch and examine him up close, Link leans forward to press their lips together. 

He doesn’t see fireworks or anything as poetic, but his eyes slip closed easily enough as he takes in the softness of Ghirahim’s lips. He strokes his thumbs across Ghirahim’s cheeks, paying particular attention to the diamond tattoo beneath his left eye. Before he pulls away, he licks softly across Ghirahim’s bottom lip, the kiss lingering.

Pressing their foreheads together, Link continues to hold Ghirahim’s face in his hands, gazing into his eyes in a way that he hopes conveys just how soft and warm his feelings are. 

Ghirahim _hmm_ s, his blush now obvious. When he talks, he leans forward so that his lips brush just slightly against Link’s own, “I suppose you’ve done well enough. Are you sure you still want this? I must warn you that things will likely get rather _heated._ ”

Link pulls just far enough away so that he can nod, quickly returning to pressing their foreheads together.

“Very well then,” with a smile softer than his words, Ghirahim pushes Link back against the bed.

He yanks at his tunic, struggling with its many layers. Link chuckles at his expense, cut off by a loud snap. With a flash of Ghirahim’s magic, his tunic is _gone,_ and oh goddesses, Ghirahim really does look like he’s going to devour him.

Link is laid flat against the bed, while Ghirahim lays out on top of him. He straddles Link, pressing them together as much as possible. Hot breath ghosts across Link’s neck, and it’s in this moment that he realizes what exactly he’d agreed to. He still wants this, his desire more than simple _want,_ but Ghirahim is so warm against him, his presence overwhelming in a way that Link couldn’t have prepared for.

The sharp points of Ghirahim’s fangs scrape against his neck and Link cries out, leaning into the touch and unconsciously baring his neck. 

“Oh Link, you’re so tempting like this. Tell me once more how much you want this,” Ghirahim mouths at his neck when he finishes talking, using his teeth to toy with and tease him.

“Please, fuck. Please, Ghirahim, want this so badly, want to give you whatever you want, want you to have me,” he squirms as he talks, trying to convince Ghirahim to bite him before he finishes talking.

Ghirahim’s chuckle reverberates through him, his mouth pressed against Link’s neck. He places a gentle kiss on his neck, and chases the softness with the sharpness of his bite.

Link cries out the instant Ghirahim’s teeth sink into him. It hurts in a way that’s _good,_ and the more Ghirahim sucks at his neck, the better it feels. Ghirahim is eager, slurping wetly at his skin. He pulls away, allowing blood to run down his neck before licking it up with a long, hot swipe of his tongue. Link finds it impossible to hold still, squirming and moving yet still pressing up toward Ghirahim, seeking out more contact between them. 

He’s hard now, aching and straining against his trousers. Ghirahim continues to lap at his neck, and when he moans into Link’s skin, his dick twitches in response. 

“I told you that things might get heated,” Ghirahim chuckles, licking at Link’s neck even as he speaks, “Do you want me to take you in that way, too?

Link nods and whines, tilting his hips up in a desperate attempt to make contact with Ghirahim. 

“I’ll make you come, but in exchange,” Ghirahim laps at the bite on his neck until the wound closes. He moves to the other side of Link’s neck, nipping softly at the untarnished skin, “I want to bite you again. Does that sound fair?”

“Please, yes. I need you, Ghirahim,” Link whines out.

He’s immediately satisfied when Ghirahim sinks his teeth into him again. With a snap of his fingers, Link’s pants and boxers are gone, and Ghirahim is laying naked on top of him. Feeling them pressed together had been overwhelming before, but with so much hot, bare skin flush with his own… It’s nearly too much.

Ghirahim pulls away again, allowing blood to run down his neck and pool in the dip of his clavicle. He whispers into Link’s skin, “You look so pretty when you’re bleeding.”

When Ghirahim pulls away to give him a kiss, Link moans at the sight of his white lips stained red. When they kiss, he tastes himself, the sharp, coppery taste of blood overwhelming his senses. 

Licking at the blood pooled around his collarbone, Ghirahim sucks at Link’s skin while reaching down to grab at his cock. Link cries out and jolts at the touch, leaning his entire body toward Ghirahim. He glances downward and moans at the sight of blood smeared across his skin. There are clear marks where Ghirahim had run his tongue through it, leaving behind tiny drops and splotches of red against his tan skin.

Further increasing Link’s pleasure, Ghirahim adjusts his grip to hold both of their cocks at once, jerking them both off and rubbing them against each other. Link’s squirming grows even more intense, his hips jolting and bucking forward, seeking out more contact. 

Even as his hand works frantically at their cocks, Ghirahim sucks and licks at his neck, switching between broad, flat strokes with the thickness of his tongue to utilizing its length to lick long, wet trails across Link’s skin.

He’s so close he could scream. And he does when Ghirahim sinks his teeth back into the open bite, licking with fervor and telling him just how good he tastes, what a sight he makes when he bleeds, how only _Ghirahim_ could make him like this, could drink his blood and make him feel such pleasure.

The words whispered against his neck coupled with Ghirahim’s frantic stroking send him over the edge. Ghirahim continues to stroke him through his climax, following him with his own orgasm soon after. Both of them twitch against one another, held together by Ghirahim’s firm grip. 

Left panting and unable to speak, Link’s chest heaves off of the bed with the force of his breaths while he tries to recover. Ghirahim still licks at his neck, this time closing the wound once more. He’s met with another kiss, thick with the taste of his blood, and he finds that he enjoys it in the strangest of ways. Link wants to say something, wants to blurt out the depth of his feelings, but he holds his tongue. He’s too blissed out to speak coherently, and with the tender way Ghirahim licks into his mouth, he has a feeling that he has plenty of time to figure out the right words.

With a last lingering kiss placed on his lips, Ghirahim moves down Link’s body to lick at the mess of cum painted across his abdomen. His long tongue makes short work of cleaning up his muscled torso, though he lingers, touching and licking and squeezing at the mix of soft skin and hard muscles. 

Ghirahim dips lower, licking at the inside of his thighs and looking up at Link from between his legs in a way that’s incredibly erotic. His cock gives a weak twitch at the sight, and somehow, Link feels like he could go again if Ghirahim keeps looking at him like that.

Sharp fangs nip teasingly at the plush skin of his inner thighs, and Ghirahim stares up at him with more intensity, daring to mouth at the base of his cock. Link knows what he wants, and he has to admit that he wants it, too.

When Link asks him for more, Ghirahim smirks in return. He places a soft kiss on Link’s inner thigh before sinking his teeth in, staining his lips and teeth even redder, allowing Link’s blood to drip down his chin before licking it up. He mouths at his cock like that, smearing blood across the base and the tip, and goddesses, Link is done for.

Ghirahim is insatiable, but lucky for Link, he’s just as eager and more than able to keep up.

* * *

Months later, after many, many exchanges of feelings and soft words (nearly every day, now), not much has changed between them. They’re still Ghirahim and Link, sword and master. The only difference is that they’ve added “lovers” to the list.

After a long sparring session, Link tilts his neck to the side in both an invitation and a request.

“You’re baring your neck quite eagerly now, my dear Link,” Ghirahim whispers as he strokes a hand across Link’s face.

Used to his antics by now, Link is unable to keep the fondness out of his voice as he responds, “...You want your blood or not?”

He does, they both do, and it isn’t long before they both get what they want. 


	19. Ghiralink - Mirror Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS yet another one that got away from me @ 3400 words. Uhhhhh rly different than everything else so far but ngl? Super loving it. Tattoo artist Link + stupid gay demon Ghirahim is so good. 
> 
> Bottom Ghirahim rights.

After a long day at work, Link isn’t in the mood for whatever mess he’s sure is waiting for him at home. 

Sure enough, when he flicks on the light in his apartment’s small bathroom, he’s greeted by the familiar sight of red lettering scrawled across the surface of the mirror. 

_YOUR FASHION SENSE IS HORRIBLE._ is written in blood, long trails of liquid dripping down the glass. 

He glances down at himself, at his dark jeans and white button up. He thinks he looks fine, and besides, he’s a goddamn _tattoo artist,_ he doesn’t need to wear a suit or anything fancy.

The first time he’d found blood on his mirror, all he was left with was a simple _HI._ Admittedly, the first few times it happened he was rather startled, but as the words increased in frequency, his fear quickly faded into annoyance. Blood is a _bitch_ to clean off of glass. Though he’s constantly met with passive-aggressiveness and sassy remarks, it’s clear that whatever is writing on his mirror is harmless (or at least, it has no intentions of harming _him_ ). 

Link cleans the newest set of words off of the mirror before getting ready for bed. Each moment he stands in the bathroom, it feels as if he’s being watched. He’s so used to the feeling by now that he’s unbothered, even going as far as to take a strange sort of comfort in the presence, whatever it may be. It makes him feel as if he isn’t so alone. 

Sleep comes easier that night than it has in awhile. 

* * *

The messages have slowly become more helpful, though they’re just as sassy.

That morning as Link is brushing his teeth, he watches as words are written in front of him. It isn’t the first time it’s happened, but it’s still strange to watch them scrawled out by an invisible hand.

_DON’T FORGET YOUR CLIENT AT 6. YOU’RE ALWAYS SO SCATTERBRAINED._

Link smiles, if only slightly. As strange as it sounds, he’s taken to speaking his thanks aloud when the messages are helpful.

“Thank you. I’ll see you when I get home,” he hasn’t said something like _that_ before, but he can’t deny that he looks forward to another message on his mirror, no matter how much of a pain it’ll be to clean up.

The touch against his face is so fleeting that Link wonders if it had happened at all. Nevertheless, he smiles and ducks out of the bathroom. It’s going to be a long day at work, especially with the problem client at 6. At least he has something to look forward to.

* * *

Introductions are long overdue. It’s been months of living in his new apartment, and Link still knows next to nothing about the entity that streaks blood across his mirror.

“I’m Link,” he says awkwardly, staring into the mirror.

_I KNOW._

“Oh,” he should have figured as much. “What’s your name?”

_I AM THE GREAT DEMON LORD GHIRAHIM._

“Ok then, Ghirahim,” he pushes up his sleeves, revealing the intricate flowers and vines running along his arms, “Am I going to get to see what you look like, since you ogle me every day?”

Link doesn’t get a response. He heaves a quiet sigh, but he can’t wipe the smile off of his face. _Ghirahim._ He has a name, now.

Even though he has to work with the client from hell, it’s one of the best days he’s had in a long time.

* * *

“When am I going to get to see what you look like?”

_LATER._

Link sighs. He isn’t sure if “later” will ever come.

* * *

That night, Link toes off his boots more slowly than usual. It had been a _long_ day, and he’s looking forward to jumping into bed and not moving again until the morning.

He trudges into the bathroom, not focused on much. The sound of him clearing his throat echoes throughout the small room.

Wait. _He_ hadn’t cleared his throat.

With a jolt, Link is forced out of his tired haze. Perched on the counter, as if he belongs there, is a man. His skin is pale, so much so that it’s nearly gray. His hair is white as snow, as is his clothing, what little of it there is. 

Link’s jaw hangs open, a fact he only realizes when the man reaches out with his pointer finger and nudges it closed. He smirks at Link, his words beyond smug, “Be careful, Link, you’ll catch flies.”

Ah. So this is later.

“Ghirahim?” He questions, just in case. He’s almost certain that _this_ is the demon that’s been making a mess of his mirror for months now, but he still wants confirmation.

“Who else?” Ghirahim licks his lips, his tongue inexplicably _long._ He leans toward Link, chuckling when he takes a step back.

“Have I satisfied your curiosity now?”

If anything, Link is even _more_ curious, but he holds his tongue. He’s too tired to deal with this, whatever _this_ is.

He makes quick work of taking off his clothes and getting ready for bed, ignoring Ghirahim’s indignant squawking at his nakedness. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, staring at Link through the mirror. Though Ghirahim feigns offense, Link can feel his eyes burning across his chest and arms, across the swirling patterns of black ink and color. Link is the one smirking now.

“Good night, Ghirahim,” he calls out before he leaves the bathroom. He figures that Ghirahim is able to follow him, though he doesn’t. Just as well. Link needs his rest, and as curious as he is, he’s too tired to deal with dramatic conversation that he can’t wipe away with a rag and glass cleaner.

* * *

_I LIKE YOUR TATTOOS._

The compliments start out innocent enough. Ghirahim is conveniently never around when Link finds them, and by the time he sees Ghirahim again, they’ve mysteriously vanished.

_I ESPECIALLY LIKE THE ONE ON YOUR HIP._

Link knows the one he’s referring to. It’s a piece styled after traditional Japanese art, with cranes flying across his right hip and side. They’re surrounded by clouds, some of which dip below the band of his boxers (when he bothers to wear any).

Not so innocent, but nothing overt. Predictably, Ghirahim is nowhere to be found when Link discovers that particular message.

* * *

_YOU’RE REALLY PRETTY._

Link is surprised. He hadn’t expected Ghirahim to finally be so forward. He smiles softly to himself as he gets dressed for the day, pulling on his tightest jeans and a white t-shirt with ripped sleeves. There’s no _particular_ reason for dressing in such a way, but he doesn’t mind showing off.

When he gets home that night, he beelines to the bathroom, where Ghirahim sits perched on the counter. Link had expected to find him there, but he hadn’t expected the persistence with which he avoids eye contact.

“You know you don’t have to stay in the bathroom, right? You can wander around the rest of my apartment if you want,” he murmurs aloud, seeking out Ghirahim’s wandering gaze.

He’s met with a soft _hmm_ in return, an affirmation and avoidance all in one.

“So you think I’m pretty?”

Ghirahim flushes, soft pink spreading across his cheeks. He uses the long curtain of his hair to hide most of his face from view, but Link has seen enough to know that he’s flustered.

“...That wasn’t me. It was another demon,” his words are terse and short, as if he’s forcing them out of his mouth.

“Oh really. There’s another demon in my apartment?” Link makes his skepticism clear, still trying to peer at Ghirahim’s eyes. 

“Yes,” the word is just as clipped, but more firm. 

“I don’t believe you,” his words are simple but effective. Ghirahim looks up at him now, his face pinched in a scowl. He’s offended but not upset, not truly. His cheeks are still flushed, his eyes still bright despite the way his features are pulled into a pout.

“You don’t trust my word? How dare you doubt me,” he’s worked himself up now, his scowl a bit more genuine.

Link takes the bait, “You’re telling me there’s another mirror demon in my apartment?”

Ghirahim scoffs at that, flicking his tongue out in irritation. He pinches his brow, and though Link prefers when Ghirahim _isn’t_ worked up, he has to admit that it’s rather hot.

“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t just refer to me as something as lowly as a _mirror demon._ Honestly, I’m offended that you think that I could be such a disdainful creature. I am the great Demon Lord Ghirahim,” he finally holds eye contact with Link, gray eyes alight with passion and misplaced fury. 

Link chuckles at his words, his expression, his _everything._ Ghirahim’s glare only intensifies, the heat of it nearly boiling over. All Link needs is one more push.

So he pushes, “If you’re not a mirror demon, when why did you haunt my mirror for so long?”

Silence hangs heavy between them now, Ghirahim tearing his gaze away and breaking eye contact once more. It isn’t awkward or uncomfortable (well, maybe it is for Ghirahim), and Link is patient enough to wait it out. When it seems like Ghirahim has finally started to calm down, he decides to break the silence.

“Can I kiss you?” Link is the most sincere he’s ever been, taking a step forward so that his legs are pressed up against Ghirahim’s where they hang over the edge of the vanity.

“I thought you would never ask,” Ghirahim practically growls, grabbing at Link’s hair and pulling him in.

Despite the hands in his hair, it’s Link who kisses Ghirahim first, taking charge with ease. He’s tempted to push for more, but he’s enjoying how soft things are. He moves closer, pushing his body flush with Ghirahim’s. He feels at his smooth hair and soft skin and thumbs at his neck.

When Link finally pulls away, Ghirahim is flushed and panting. He smiles wide, opening his arms and offering to take Ghirahim to his bedroom. Not for sex, not yet, but he wants to feel the demon pressed up against him, even as they sleep.

Having Ghirahim wrapped up around him in a tangle of limbs, naked skin pressed together, is better than he ever could have imagined.

* * *

One night, Ghirahim asks to see his tattoos up close. Link obliges, stripping down and allowing Ghirahim to trace over each one, asking questions and touching at his exposed skin. 

There’s the cranes on his hip, the flowers and vines crawling up his arms, the sword running down his spine. There are more pieces sprawled about his shoulders and down his thighs. He’s by no means _covered_ in tattoos, and he doesn’t plan to be, but he loves his little collection of art, loves it even more when it’s so thoroughly appreciated.

Ghirahim drags kisses across all of the inked skin, sometimes following the softness with licks and bites, his hands roaming in a desperate attempt to know all of Link. 

Despite being a demon, Ghirahim is heaven, his touches hot like fire. Link is greedy, but then, so is his lover. They balance out, in the end.

* * *

_I WANT YOU TO FUCK ME._

Link hadn’t been expecting _that_ when he woke up. 

Blood is smeared across his mirror for the first time in at least a month, and Ghirahim is nowhere to be found. 

* * *

When Link gets home that night, he finds Ghirahim sitting on the bathroom counter, rather than curled up in bed or entertaining himself elsewhere. 

He’s planned his question all day: “Did the other demon come back and write on the mirror this morning? Surely _you_ wouldn’t say such a thing.”  
  
Ghirahim looks away, his face flushed. 

Link smiles, pulling him into a kiss. If he could, he’d fuck Ghirahim up against the mirror right here, but the bathroom is cramped enough, the counter too small for them both. 

Instead, he picks Ghirahim up, encouraging him to wrap his long legs around his torso. There’s a large mirror hanging on the door of his closet, resting across from his bed. Rather than take Ghirahim to the bed, he pushes him up against the door, the mirror, pressing him into the glass and into a kiss.

Their lips meet over and over, hot tongues and breath mixing together. Link pulls at Ghirahim’s hair, enough to make him cry out but not enough for it to hurt. 

“Do you still want me to fuck you?” Link questions, biting up against the pale skin of Ghirahim’s neck. 

“I…I didn’t write…that,” he pants out between moans, his words strained.

Link laughs into Ghirahim’s skin, kissing him over and over. He kisses Ghirahim’s lips again, pushing inside of his mouth with his tongue. It’s easy enough to grab one of his hands and pull it to his hip, anchoring Ghirahim in place. 

He pulls away, whispering against white-painted lips, “Whether you wrote it or not, the question is the same. Do you want me to fuck you?”

“ _Yes,_ you insufferable, hu–” he’s cut off by Link’s tongue in his mouth, somehow managing to grin into the kiss.

“Get on the bed, then,” Link tilts his head to the side, gesturing toward the bed. Admittedly, he’ll miss the feeling of the cool glass pressed up against his skin as he holds Ghirahim in place, but he has something else in mind.

Link removes his clothes without any fanfare, watching as Ghirahim does the same while avoiding eye contact. _So cute._

He rustles around in his nightstand, seeking out the bottle of lube he keeps there, when he’s interrupted by Ghirahim clearing his throat, “You won’t need that.” Link shoots him a confused look, prompting him to continue, “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing myself ahead of time. I’m feeling rather…impatient.”  
It isn’t often that Link flusters, but Ghirahim’s words, combined with the frankness of his tone, has his cheeks flushed red. He’s more than okay with this development, but he can’t say he’d expected it.

“So it _was_ you who wrote on the mirror this morning,” Link’s voice drips with sarcasm; they both know the answer. Ghirahim looks away and pouts, but Link doesn't miss the way he spreads his legs the slightest bit wider. Never one to deny such an invitation, Link joins Ghirahim on the bed, straddling his hips and pulling him into yet another kiss. 

Curious, he reaches a hand down between Ghirahim’s legs, chuckling when he jolts. He presses up against his hole and oh yes, he’s stretched and leaking. Ghirahim hadn’t been kidding when he said he’d prepared himself.

“I’m going to fuck you now, okay?” Link whispers hotly into Ghirahim’s ear, running his finger around his hole but refraining from pushing inside.

“Yes, Link. Don’t make me wait any longer, I need you,” Ghirahim’s voice is low, and he punctuates his words by rolling his hips, forcing Link’s finger inside of him. It’s not enough, especially considering how stretched he already is, but he still moans at the sensation, at the fact that it’s _Link_ pressed up inside of him, curling his finger and biting at his neck. 

When Link pulls away, Ghirahim chases him with his hips. Link’s hand grabs at his cock, jerking it once, twice, before pulling away again.

A sharp cry of surprise tears through the air when Link picks Ghirahim up. He grins to himself, placing sweet kisses against Ghirahim’s neck as he settles him on his hands and knees, his head facing the mirror across from the bed. 

“Is this okay?” He questions. Ghirahim whips his head around to glare at him, exasperated, and his “yes” is strained. 

Grabbing at Ghirahim’s hips, Link pushes forward into him. He glances at the mirror, and what a sight they make, pressed together like this. Link takes his time to push all of the way inside, letting Ghirahim adjust despite the demon’s insistent thrusts backward, greedy for more.

He takes a moment to breathe in and out before digging his hands into Ghirahim’s hips and pulling back, only to slam forward once more.

Looking into the mirror reveals that Ghirahim’s eyes are shut, and that won’t do. Link grabs at his chin, pushing his face up so that Ghirahim makes eye contact with himself in the mirror. He drapes across Ghirahim’s back, nipping at his neck before whispering into the skin there, “Look at yourself. Look how well you’re taking my cock, and we’ve only just begun. Look at us together like this, and don’t look away.”  
  
Ghirahim moans at his words, around his thrusts as he picks up the pace. Link remains draped across him, mouthing at his neck and staring into Ghirahim’s eyes in their reflection.

His pace isn’t particularly rough or fast, but his thrusts are deep and thorough, meant to make Ghirahim feel each and every inch of him as he pulls nearly all the way out and pushes himself back in. Ghirahim had almost gone overboard with the lube, and with each thrust, Link’s cock squelches wetly as it pushes in and out of his hole. 

“Wanna kiss you, please, wanna kiss you,” Ghirahim babbles, meeting his gaze in the mirror.

Link can’t deny such sweet pleas, as wonderful as the sight of them pressed together like this is. He pulls out of Ghirahim, ignoring the demon’s whine as he rearranges them once more. He pulls Ghirahim into his lap, into a searing kiss as he presses back up inside of him. 

They’re sitting parallel to the mirror now, Ghirahim draped across his lap while Link works his hips up inside of him. He lets their kiss linger before he grabs at Ghirahim’s chin once more, directing his gaze toward the mirror. 

He whispers into his ear, nipping and licking at the lobe, “Look how well you take me, look at the way I push into you, at the way your whole body trembles around me. You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I want you to _watch._ ”  
  
Ghirahim does as he asks, though he occasionally looks away from the mirror to beg for more kisses. Link keeps a hand buried in his hair throughout, eager to stroke at the soft white strands. 

It’s a slow build to both of their orgasms. Neither of them are in a rush, so Link keeps the pace consistent as he works them both toward the edge. He obliges Ghirahim in as many kisses as he wants, though he’s dutiful in directing him to look into the mirror. Link looks as well, taking in the sight of both of them tangled together, pale skin pressed against the colors and dark ink painted across his own body. They make quite the sight, together like this, though Link knows that his eyes will always be drawn to Ghirahim.

He pulls Ghirahim into a kiss of his own, stroking at his cock and whispering into his mouth that he wants him to come. And he does.

Quivering and trembling above him, Ghirahim comes almost silently, a tiny rasping noise pulled out from the back of his throat as Link kisses him through it. It’s seeing him like that, his face wanton and blissed out, that does it for Link. He comes as well, louder than Ghirahim had been, moaning into his mouth. 

He holds Ghirahim throughout, stroking his back as they both come down, sweaty and panting for breath. 

When he finally pulls away from their kiss, he goes back for more in the next moment, placing tiny, sweet kisses against Ghirahim’s lips, following each of them up with whispered words and praises, all of them softer than he’d like to admit. 

One last glance in the mirror reveals the mess they’ve made of one another, but this is a mess that he’ll eagerly clean up. After all, he won’t need a rag and glass cleaner. He much prefers messes like this with Ghirahim, rather than the ones on his bathroom mirror.

* * *

It’s been a year since the first time Link had found bloody words written on his mirror. After all that time, Ghirahim finally asks Link to give him a tattoo. He happily obliges, having known the request was a long time coming. 

He brings his inks and tattoo machine home (Ghirahim can leave, of course, but they both prefer the intimacy of Link’s tiny apartment), and is careful as he disinfects Ghirahim’s skin and his equipment. 

The ink is pitch black, and Link is more careful with Ghirahim that he is with any client. He kisses him throughout, as short as the experience is. 

A year after that first message on his bathroom mirror, Link tattoos a tiny, black diamond on Ghirahim’s face, just below the outside corner of his left eye. 

It’s his favorite piece he’s ever done, made even better by the kisses he’s rewarded with once he’s finished.


	20. Ghiralink - Multiple Orgasms/Overstimulation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trans Link trans Link trans Link.

“You aren’t allowed to come until I say so. Am I making myself clear, Link?” 

It had seemed easy enough…and then Ghirahim started using his tongue.

Ghirahim is sprawled out between his legs, looking up at Link as he licks at his dick, dragging his tongue down, down to lick across his slit. Link is tempted to look away, but he’s too captivated by the low simmering heat in Ghirahim’s gray eyes to consider it for more than a moment.

And then Ghirahim is pushing inside with just the tip of his tongue, teasing at Link’s growing wetness. He pulls away just a moment later, licking up and down Link’s slit instead. Ghirahim’s tongue is heaven and hell and everything in between, and Link can’t help that he pushes his hips up toward his face. He’s met with sharp teeth biting at his thigh, a reminder that he isn’t the one in charge. 

The tongue licking and teasing him is insistent, laving across him with long, powerful strokes. Link is a weak man for Ghirahim, for this, and he’s unable to resist the way Ghirahim licks at his clit, over and over. 

He comes, forgetting all about Ghirahim’s demands until it’s too late to hold back. By then, he’s babbling and stroking at white hair, too lost in pleasure to realize his mistake. 

Once Link comes down, Ghirahim moves to straddle his hips, pulling him into a kiss that’s suspiciously sweet. Sharp teeth bite at his neck, contrasting the sweetness with something darker, hotter. When Ghirahim whispers against his neck, he scrapes his teeth across the tan skin of Link’s throat, “Oh Link, I didn’t say that you could come.”

Link gulps, the words pulling him out of the haze brought on by his orgasm. He looks down to meet Ghirahim’s eyes, searching. He isn’t sure what he’s looking for, but all he finds is burning dominance. 

Before he can look away, Ghirahim grabs his chin, holding it in place so that Link is forced to make eye contact as that long tongue licks up his neck. Finally, Ghirahim settles at his ear, licking and sucking at the lobe before pulling away. Hot breaths against his wet skin cause Link to squirm, torn between pulling away and seeking out more. 

Another breath ghosts against his ear, and then Ghirahim wraps his tongue around the pointed tip, his words so dark that they’re nearly a growl, “Since you want to come so badly, you’re going to come again. You’re going to come over and over until you can’t think of anything else. How does that sound?”

It sounds like the sweetest torture imaginable, and like everything with Ghirahim, Link knows that it’ll be so much more intense in reality than in whispered words and heated thoughts. Nevertheless, he wants it, no matter how much of a mess it’ll make him.

“ _Please,_ ” it’s a whimper, one that Ghirahim draws out into a moan as he licks at Link’s ear.

Link is pliant as Ghirahim rearranges them on the bed, moving where he’s told without protest.

…Until Ghirahim settles his head on a pillow and beckons Link forward. He knows exactly what’s expected of him, and he also knows how much sitting on Ghirahim’s face affects him. The smug grin painted across the demon’s features says more than words ever could. 

With feigned reluctance, Link moves to straddle Ghirahim’s face, grabbing at the headboard to steady himself. 

Words spoken against his inner thigh startle him, as does the tongue that follows them, “Though you may be above me now, don’t think that this means you’re in charge. You’re going to come at my discretion, and you’d do well not to forget that again.”  
  
The shiver that runs through his body is unconscious, the result of Ghirahim’s heated words. The tongue licking at his thighs doesn’t help.

Strong hands grab at the tops of his thighs, pushing Link downward to _sit,_ and goddesses above, Ghirahim already has his tongue on him. At this point, there’s a mess of slick between his legs, a result of his earlier orgasm and Ghirahim’s continued teasing. Ghirahim is eager to lick at the inside of his thighs, flicking at the spot where they meet his groin. 

Infuriatingly, Ghirahim avoids where Link wants him most, tonguing and biting and _sucking_ at the muscled flesh of his thighs. 

It feels like hours have passed when Ghirahim finally moves on from his thighs. His tongue is ruthless as he licks up and down the length of Link’s slit. It feels good, so good, and Link wants him _inside,_ though they both know that won’t be enough to make him come.

Ghirahim parts his folds with his tongue, licking up his slick with such fervor that wet, sloppy noises echo out into the room around them. Link is a mess, moaning and whining and wanting _more._ But he knows better than to push Ghirahim, so he digs his hands into the headboard, wishing it was Ghirahim’s hair or his back or any part of him, really.

Finally, _finally,_ Ghirahim pushes inside of him once more, pushing deep and curling his tongue. Link’s nails dig into the headboard, his hips shuddering with the effort of holding still.

He isn’t sure how long it goes on for, but when Ghirahim pulls away, Link heaves a sigh of relief, only to inhale sharply when the licking resumes, this time on his dick.

Fuck, he’s going to come. That’s the point, of course that’s the point, but Ghirahim is ruthless with his tongue, licking across Link’s cock with wide, lingering strokes, using the perfect amount of pressure each time. Link’s thighs shake, trembling, his hips twitching each time Ghirahim flicks his tongue across his dick. 

Link can _feel_ it when Ghirahim smirks against his skin, and then his lips are wrapped around him, sucking relentlessly until Link is pushed over the edge, his legs shaking uncontrollably.

It’s a struggle to keep from collapsing in a pile of limbs, but somehow, Link manages. Ghirahim gives him time to calm down and collect himself, but the instant Link sits up and takes a deep breath, his cock is being licked again. It twitches at the stimulation, sensitive from two orgasms. Link isn’t sure how many times he’ll have to come until he “can’t think of anything else,” but he knows that Ghirahim is far from finished with him.

Ghirahim doesn’t bother to tease him this time, doesn’t bother to lick inside of him or at his thighs or anywhere but his dick. The pace is intense and thorough, Ghirahim bringing him to the edge more quickly than before. 

With a loud cry, Link comes again, small whines and moans falling from his lips when Ghirahim licks him through his orgasm, causing his hips to twitch toward his face.

Whispers of praise and encouragement are pressed into his thighs, though Link can barely make sense of them. He’s given more time to collect himself, to get his breathing under control and to keep his legs from shaking. It’s one thing to be pushed through orgasm after orgasm, but it’s another to be overstimulated to the point that it hurts. They both know this, and Link is grateful.

Once he’s caught his breath, he tells Ghirahim that he’s ready to go again. 

The pace starts slower this time. Ghirahim licks at his thighs, at the mess that’s spread there once more. He licks across his slit over and over, licking up whatever slickness he comes across. When Link tilts his hips the slightest bit, his thighs dragging across Ghirahim’s face, he realizes that it’s _wet._ A glance downward reveals that Ghirahim’s face is smeared with his slick, and oh goddesses, it’s such an erotic sight that Link has to look away before it becomes too much.

Ignoring the urge to look at Ghirahim again, to look at the mess of slick gathered up around his chin and mouth, Link allows himself to sink into the feeling of Ghirahim below him. 

Soon enough, predictable as ever, Ghirahim is at his dick again, circling his tongue around and around, prodding and licking at it with intermittent pressure. 

Link cants his hips now, his movements slight enough that he knows he won’t be scolded. When Ghirahim applies just the right amount of pressure to his clit and Link rolls his hips to grind into it, the feeling is beyond comparison. Both of his hands clutch at the headboard, but he wants to stroke at Ghirahim’s hair, to feel the softness between his fingertips. He knows he’d end up pulling at it as he grows increasingly impatient, so he holds back, digging his nails into the headboard instead. 

Catching him off guard, Ghirahim places a _kiss_ on his dick before licking at him with fervor, and that’s what does him in.

This orgasm is more intense than the others, but the grin Link feels pressed against the inside of his thigh tells him that he isn’t done quite yet. He isn’t complaining, not at all, but the intensity is undeniable.

He’s barely come down from his climax when Ghirahim begins to lick at him again. He’s brought to orgasm astoundingly quickly, and Link’s breath is sucked away from him.

“Good boy, just one more,” Ghirahim whispers as he licks at his thighs, “You’re doing so well…”

The simple praises push at Link even further, causing him to cry out in response. He cants his hips, mindlessly seeking out pleasure. At this point, he’s so blissed out that every time Ghirahim’s tongue touches his dick, it twitches in response, causing his hips to flutter and jerk about. It’s almost too much, but not quite, and Link sinks into the feeling, into Ghirahim.

His entire body is reactive to Ghirahim, practically lit up with pleasure. His face is flushed bright red, his blush spreading to the tips of his fluttering ears. His hips jerk with each lick and suck carefully laved across his dick, which twitches with the intensity of it all.

He begins to babble, barely able to hang on to the headboard as pleas and begging and “I love you”s fall from his mouth in a jumbled mess. He’s close, so close that nothing else matters.

Ghirahim digs his claws into Link’s muscled thighs, pinning him down and surging up with his mouth, wrapping his lips around Link’s clit to _suck_ and that’s it.

Even through his orgasm, Link’s babbling continues, his entire body jerking and moving with the intensity of his pleasure. He collapses, now, finally unable to hold himself up under the mounting pleasure. He sees white for just a moment, and when he’s coming back to coherence, he vaguely registers Ghirahim whispering more praises into his thighs, licking up the slickness left there, carefully cleaning him up. 

He allows himself to be pulled down from his perch on Ghirahim’s face. He’s unable to look away from Ghirahim as they lay down and face one another, forced to take in the sight of the mess of slick smeared across his face and lips. Ghirahim gives him the widest grin he’s ever seen, pleased with the mess. Silently, Link is pleased with it as well.

“Do you want me to suck you off?” His voice is hoarse, and it isn’t until he feels his throat rasping around his words that he realizes just how much he’d been babbling and whining. 

Ghirahim’s grin is replaced by a soft smile, and he presses a short kiss to Link’s lips. His tone is sweet while his words are anything but, “Link, if you really think that I could watch you writhing about on top of my face and _not_ come, then you are more foolish than I thought. There’s no way I could resist touching myself when met with such a sight.”

Link flushes, Ghirahim laughs, and they kiss once more.

“Punishments” with Ghirahim always end up with both of them beyond satisfied. The pleasure is followed up by soft moments, and it’s the softness that has Link falling even deeper into love.


	21. Sidlink - Exhibitionism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trans Link trans Link trans Link trans Link trans Li–

“Are you sure you want to do this, Link?” Sidon asks, and while it’s sweet, Link is beyond impatient. He exhales in a short puff of air, nodding vigorously. 

Sidon turns his head to the right, his gaze falling to the figure sitting on the couch. Bazz fidgets nervously, but Sidon can see the sheen of slick beginning to build up around his slit. He speaks again, “And you?”

“Yes!” Bazz blurts out, his enthusiasm too obvious to hide.

Link clears his throat, drawing attention to himself to sign, _I know that Sidon already told you this, but you aren’t allowed to touch, just watch._ Bazz nods eagerly, his head fins swaying with the motion.

 _But you can touch yourself. In fact,_ he clears his throat, his voice raspy, “You are _encouraged_ to do so.”

With that, Link returns to kissing Sidon, pushing his tongue into his mouth and licking along the sharp points of his teeth. He can’t miss the sound of Bazz groaning in his periphery, and he smiles into the kiss as he dives further into Sidon’s mouth. He allows his tongue to scrape against one of those sharp teeth, the tiniest drop of blood tainting the air and Sidon’s mouth with the sweet scent of copper. 

He’s naked but for his compression shorts, a fact that becomes impossible to ignore when Sidon begins to pet at his chest, his arms, his abdomen. He seeks out the scars there, scraping and petting at tan skin, laying kisses where he’s able to. 

Link moans and arches his back, putting on a display for both Sidon and Bazz. He’s incredibly well-muscled and covered in scars that he knows Sidon finds rather handsome, so he’s confident that Bazz will enjoy the sight of his body as well. When Sidon pets at the front of his shorts, he pushes his hips into the touch, wanting Sidon’s large hand to swallow up his cock.

Two fingers rub against him, pushing the material of his shorts up against his folds, Sidon parting them through the wet, clinging fabric. Sidon’s voice is nearly a growl, pressed up into his ear as Link straddles his lap, “Already so wet and hard. I’m flattered. I’m sure Bazz is too.”

At the reminder that _someone else_ is in the room with them, Link moans, tearing his eyes away from Sidon and toward the couch. Bazz meets his eyes, his fingers already teasing at his slit and pushing inside, the edges swollen and dripping. His cocks will be coming out soon enough, and the thought makes Link moan again.

Sidon grabs his chin, pulling his attention away from the couch, from Bazz, and yanks him into a searing kiss. Link licks at his teeth once more, giving Sidon yet another taste of his blood. When he pulls away, Sidon’s teeth are stained bright red.

The hand teasing at his shorts is pulled away, causing Link to whine and buck his hips as if to chase the touch. Sidon moves them both, leaning back against the headboard of their bed, placing Link on his lap so that his back is pressed into Sidon’s front, both of them on full display for Bazz. A glance his way reveals that his cocks have begun to poke out from his slit, and with a grin to himself, Sidon bites at Link’s neck before grabbing at his shorts, pulling them off of his body with a single smooth motion.

Bazz moans at the same time Link does, the noises mixing together in a way that’s strange but not unpleasant. 

Petting up and down the insides of Link’s thighs, Sidon teases all three of them as he puts on a show for Bazz. He has no intention of touching between Link’s legs, not yet. But then a strong hand grabs roughly at his own, dragging it through Link’s slick and up to his cock. Sidon can’t say no to that. 

He feels his own cocks beginning to push out from his sheath as he teases Link’s dick, circling it with a single finger before pushing at it with enough pressure that Link begins to squirm. It isn’t enough for him to get any _real_ satisfaction out of it. 

Sidon maintains eye contact with Bazz all along, mouthing to him that Link is _his._ Whether or not his friend can understand him, he stakes his claim on his lover. This had been Link’s idea, and while Sidon is more than okay with it (his cocks poking out from his sheath are evidence enough), Link is still irrefutably his. As if to punctuate his possessive thoughts, he bites at Link’s neck, just barely drawing blood. He licks at the marks left behind by his teeth, smiling at the way that Link moans and leans toward him, wanting more. His pearl has always liked it rough.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” His question is directed toward Bazz, but they both moan in response. Link’s moan reverberates through him where their bodies are connected, and Sidon lets out a rumbling growl in return.

He runs a finger across Link’s slit, collecting some of the slick gathered between his thighs. He brings it to his mouth for a taste, whispering into Link’s twitching ear just how good he tastes, how much Sidon wants to _devour_ him. But that isn’t what they have in mind for right now, so instead he continues to tease at Link’s dick.

Careful with his claws, Sidon pushes a finger past Link’s folds, gathering up even more of his slick. The wet noise and the sensation of the action is arousing beyond words, and that’s what has his cocks pushing out from inside of him. 

Link is held carefully against him, positioned just above his cocks. They grind up against his ass as they emerge, and Link cries out at the sight of them beneath him. Greedy as ever, he reaches both of his hands down to stroke Sidon’s cocks, playing with the tapered tips and covering his fingers in Sidon’s slick, different from his own.

He wants Sidon inside. He wants Sidon inside of him while Bazz watches and touches himself and wishes for something he can _never_ have, because as thrilling as this is, Link and Sidon belong to one another and no one else.

Grabbing at one of Sidon’s cocks, the one on top, he begins to push it toward his slit. Sidon pushes his hand away, biting at his neck once more. 

“Bazz,” Link watches as the other Zora startles, the hand stroking at his cocks coming to a screeching halt, “Watch as I push into him, watch as he fucks himself open on my cock, as I touch him and make him come.”

Sidon removes the hand holding Link’s, allowing him to grab at his cock once more. Link sits up the slightest bit, adjusting his position so that he’s able to sit down onto Sidon’s cock. 

He pushes up onto his knees, guiding the tapered tip to his leaking slit. Slowly, he begins to sit down, spearing himself open. Sidon’s cocks are wide at their base, but at the tip they’re only as thick around as one of his fingers. Their shape makes them _much_ easier to take, and it makes the stretch that much better when Link hits the widest part of Sidon’s cocks. 

His thighs tremble with the effort of holding himself up. As much as he wants to let go and allow gravity to pull him down onto Sidon’s cock, it’s too much to take so quickly. As impatient as he is, it’s difficult to ease himself down little by little, but he grits his teeth and bears it. Though his legs tremble, this is nothing for him, for the strength of his legs and core and every part of him. When he’s finally fully seated, he gives himself a moment to catch his breath. He grabs Sidon’s hands and drags them to his thighs, urging him to dig in with his claws, even if only the slightest bit.

Like with everything he does, Link takes Sidon in with purpose. The cock outside of him, the one on the bottom, is pressed up against his front now, and if he tilts his hips just right–

Sidon’s cock rubs up against his own, and now he begins to tremble. Sharp teeth ghost across his ears, licking at the pointed tips and urging them to twitch beneath Sidon’s ministrations. Link is sure that they’re red by now, as red as his face and maybe as red as Sidon’s skin. 

A hand cups his chin, pulling his gaze up to meet Bazz’s. Link watches as Bazz fingers at his slit with one hand and strokes at his cocks with the other, his eyes flitting between Sidon and Link and the spot where they’re joined together. 

Even when Link glances away, he can feel Bazz’s gaze burning into him. It’s hot enough to have him fluttering around Sidon’s cock. He’s met with an experimental thrust, and when Link cants his hips in return, Sidon starts to move at a brutal pace.

With each push inside of Link, the cock outside of him scrapes against his own, the slick covering it easing the way and making a wet, squelching noise each time their skin comes into contact. Link urges Sidon to move faster, wanting to hear the noise even more, wanting even more stimulation against his clit. He’s greedy, ravenous, downright _gluttonous,_ but Sidon has never minded. Always one to indulge him, Sidon speeds up to meet the pace Link has set. All the while, Link feels Bazz’s eyes on him, causing him to cry out. 

As Bazz’s eyes flit about, Link’s own eyes are torn between the other Zora and watching as Sidon’s cock pushes inside of him. His tapered length is easily swallowed up by Link, becoming even more wet with each thrust as slick from both of them mixes together. This makes noise too, different from that of Sidon’s second cock against his clit. This is louder, more erotic, and it rivals the volume of Link’s whines and cries. 

He brings a hand down between his legs, stroking at his dick in the moments that Sidon’s cock moves away, meeting Sidon’s thrusts with his own quick movements. 

“Sidon, Sidon, Sidon,” his moans are fucked out of him, pulled from his mouth by the intensity of the cock pushing inside of him. A hand is beneath his chin again, and this time it doesn’t leave, forcing Link to keep his eyes on Bazz, on the frantic way his hands move, focusing on the way his eyes can’t seem to stand still. 

“Look at Link,” Sidon’s voice comes out as a growl, and Bazz rushes to obey. He stares into Link’s eyes, both of their gazes burning. His hands move faster now. 

Teeth dig into Link’s opposite shoulder as if to hold him in place, and then Sidon starts _really_ fucking him, pistoning his hips up inside of him, the wet drag of both of his cocks more than Link can take. 

His hand moves faster against his clit, matching Sidon’s pace as best as he can. He increases the pressure, pushing, _pushing,_ and then Sidon thrusts so hard that his cock pushes Link’s fingers out of the way, the length dragging against Link’s dick so hard that he’s pushed over the edge.

Link comes with a shout of Sidon’s name, his insides trembling around his prince. His cock twitches weakly as he fucks himself through his orgasm. 

Vaguely, Link registers the sound of Sidon giving Bazz an order, followed by a loud groan and heavy breathing. 

Finally, Sidon digs his teeth in even further, drawing blood in a way that causes them both to moan. He fucks into Link even as his insides clamp around him, Link grabbing at the cock that’s outside of him even through the haze of his orgasm. He’s unable to do much more than clench his fist to provide a shallow channel for Sidon to fuck into, but it’s enough. 

With a roar that reverberates through Link’s body, Sidon comes, making a mess both inside and outside of him, his hips thrusting forward in jittery, unconscious movements. 

Link finally allows himself to collapse, panting heavily as he’s hit with the aftermath of his orgasm. He can hear Bazz panting as well, but he chooses to ignore him in favor of sinking into his prince. 

As always, Sidon takes care of him, being extra careful not to jostle him as he pulls out. Link is always particularly sensitive after orgasming, and he appreciates that his prince is so mindful. 

He has enough coherence to quietly thank Bazz before Sidon is picking him up to clean off in the pool in their room. As thrilling as their time with Bazz had been, Link takes comfort in the noise of the door shutting behind him, glad to be alone with Sidon as they bathe together. 

Link falls asleep to the feeling of Sidon washing his hair, “I love you”s whispered into his ear. He _loved_ having an audience, but he wants his prince’s attention more than anything else.


	22. Sidlink - Formal Wear

Sidon has never seen Link look so…dashing before. No matter what he wears, Link is handsome and beautiful and so many other words that could never begin to describe him properly. Something about this outfit is handsome and charming in a way that Sidon has never seen, so used to Link looking rugged and messy (goddesses, how much he loves that).

Queen Zelda has decided to throw a ball to celebrate the one year anniversary of the Calamity’s defeat. People flock to Hyrule Castle from all corners of the land, filling up the castle’s ballroom with ease. Link had surely been cajoled into coming to the event by the queen, and as Zoran Royalty, Sidon had been obligated to come as well. He knows how much his pearl loathes events such as this, but Sidon can’t help but be grateful that Zelda had forced him to come, if it means wearing an outfit like _that._

His father notices him staring because _of course he does,_ though Sidon is grateful for the explanation he’s provided with. Apparently, Link is wearing the uniform usually worn by the royal guards. His father chuckles when he notices Sidon staring again, and he’s quick to excuse himself. 

Because it was Link himself who brought down the Calamity, he’s surrounded by a constant crowd. Sidon can tell how uncomfortable he is with it all, but he takes solace in the fact that when Link’s eyes meet his own from across the room, some of his anxiety seems to fade away. Despite being his fiancé, Sidon doesn’t spend much time with Link that night, though he does his best to keep an eye on him. 

After many hours of forced diplomacy (Sidon knows how much Link hates it, especially with strangers), Sidon is sure that Link’s hands are achy from all of the signing he’s had to do. Link’s gaze pins him down from across the room, and he gestures toward the entrance to the ballroom. Sidon is quick to nod his head in agreement.

Before he follows Link back to his (rarely used, the Domain is his home, really) quarters, Sidon heads to the guest room he’d been assigned. He wants to get out of the heavy regalia that weighs down at his head and shoulders. The feeling of fabric against his skin is unfamiliar, and though it’s only a one-shouldered cape, it still feels wrong when it rubs against his skin. 

He’s yanking at the circlet placed just behind his crest when he stops in his tracks. As soon as he opens the door, he’s met with the sight of Link sitting in _his_ room, on the bed and waiting.

“Leave that on,” Link’s tone immediately tells Sidon just how frustrated he is. His voice is strained, though his hands are surely tired from a long night spent conversing with strangers when he’d rather be with Sidon. He’s overwhelmed, and when he gets like this, Sidon finds that he seeks control. He’s more than willing to give himself up to his fiancé, especially when he’s so visibly distressed.

Sidon shuts the door behind him, and when he walks further into the bedroom, his breath hitches. Link is still wearing his uniform, though his trousers…his trousers are gone. He’s sprawled out on the bed, his tall white boots accentuating the thickness of his thighs while the tunic _just barely_ keeps his cock out of view.

Patting the bed next to him, Link asks Sidon to sit. He’s eager to comply, and even more eager to sink into the kiss that Link pulls him into. He’s yanked down by his head fins, Link’s touch not rough but definitely eager. 

“You look so pretty all dressed up,” Link coos as he nibbles at his head fins. Sidon flushes blue, suddenly conscious of the regalia he’s covered in.

“So do you,” his voice is raspy, “I’m sure you prefer other armor, but I must admit that you look rather dashing.”  
  
Link preens at that, stretching out on the bed to show Sidon just how good he looks. He tosses the hat aside and pulls out his hair tie. Somehow, impossibly, he looks even _better_ now. His hair hangs long and loose and thick around his shoulders, his blue eyes already burning with passion. Sidon can’t look away.

He allows Link to push and prod him around the bed, situating him exactly where he wants him. Pillows are shoved behind his back, and Sidon relaxes into them, sitting up against the wall.

Satisfied, Link crawls into his prince’s lap. The tunic brushes against Sidon’s skin as he moves, the contact fleeting but heavenly. It’s meant to tease him, Sidon knows, and he’s all too eager to see the tunic forgotten in a corner.

With a smirk on his face that can only mean trouble, Link grabs one of his hands. He brings it beneath the tunic and between his legs and no, _no,_ right past his cock. Sidon almost whines until his hand is pressed up against Link’s hole. It’s dripping with lubricant, and when Sidon presses the tip of his finger inside, he can tell that Link has been thoroughly stretched. He catches Link’s eyes with his own and is met with glinting, burning blue.

Sidon gulps. He’d known as soon as he walked in the room that Link would want to be in control, to chase his stress away with the sweetness of mutual pleasure. Yet seeing him so eager and ready and _willing_ has him reeling. Link is a handful, and Sidon is simply along for the ride—sinking into Link’s control is easier than breathing.

Unsure of where to put his hands, Sidon watches as Link finally removes his tunic, revealing his straining cock and _oh_ the sight of lubricant dripping down his thighs. They both prefer it when Link can use Sidon’s slick to ease the way, but with Link on his own, he’d clearly had to make do.

Link is left naked but for the white boots, and _oh_ what a sight he makes. The boots reach his mid thigh, and they accentuate the corded muscles of Link’s scarred legs. Sidon reaches out to touch, basking in Link’s pleased hum. 

“I want your cocks, Sidon. I’m going to fuck myself on you. Is that okay?” Link asks, framing Sidon’s leaking slit with his hands but not touching at the slick gathered there, not without permission.

“Please, my pearl. Take me however you desire,” Sidon’s words are little more than a whine, but he knows that Link enjoys it that way. 

That had been the right answer, apparently, as Link leans up to kiss at the underside of his jaw before settling back down. 

They know each other intimately well. It takes Link mere minutes to have Sidon’s slit leaking and wanting, his cocks beginning to push out from within. Link uses _both_ of his hands to stroke at Sidon’s cocks, drawing out the entirety of their lengths.

Bracing his hands on Sidon’s shoulders, Link pushes up so that one of Sidon’s cocks is pressed against him. He moves a single hand to hold it in place before he begins to lower himself down onto its length. Sidon watches with rapt attention, his eyes glued on Link’s strong legs, on the white leather wrapped around them. Link’s thighs are clenched tightly around his own, straining as Link slowly lowers himself onto the cock inside of him. 

As focused on Link’s eyes as he is, Sidon is caught off guard when Link begins to stroke at the cock that’s left outside, pressing it up against his own length. Sidon throws his head back, bares his teeth, and lets out a long groan. 

Link has been impatient and wanting to push them toward pleasure all along, so it really shouldn’t be a surprise when he lets out a frustrated huff, pushing himself down the rest of the way onto Sidon’s cock, all in a single movement. Though it shouldn’t, the extent of Link’s enthusiasm takes Sidon by surprise. 

When he attempts to buck up into Link, his hips are pinned in place. The message is clear enough. Link grabs Sidon’s hands and brings them to his thighs, encouraging him to feel at the boots, at his legs. Sidon pays particular attention to the spot where the tightness of the boots causes the flesh of Link’s thighs to spill out over the top, the muscles of his legs straining.

Hands kept occupied by Link’s legs, Sidon allows himself to take in the sight of Link bouncing on his cock. Link is drawn to the intricacies of his adornments, fumbling with Sidon’s jewelry and circlet even as he fucks himself. 

Sidon is suddenly yanked forward when Link fists a hand in the cape that lays draped across his left shoulder. Link is too short for them to kiss like this, but Sidon is still being pulled toward him. Compliant to Link’s wishes, as always, Sidon bares his neck. 

Searing kisses and aching bites are placed across Sidon’s neck, Link grabbing at the cape throughout. 

“Such a handsome prince I’ve caught,” Link murmurs into his skin, and oh goddesses, he’s too much.

They continue on like this for an amount of time Sidon can’t be bothered to keep track of. All he knows is that it’s been quite awhile, and Link’s stamina still isn’t waning. He digs his claws into Link’s thighs, not enough to draw blood but enough to relish in their strength. Experimentally, he pushes a finger into the space between one of Link’s legs and the boot wrapped around it, feeling at just how much more heated the skin is. Sidon gropes at both Link’s skin and the part of his thighs covered by the boots. He’s thoroughly engrossed in the boots, in the idea of helping Link deface the only formal wear he owns.

“May I?” Sidon asks when he notices Link’s hand struggling to keep up with the effort of jerking both of them off. With a nod of approval, Sidon pulls one of his hands away from Link’s legs (and what a loss that is), wrapping it around both his and Link’s cocks.

Link has always particularly loved the feeling of his length rubbing against Sidon’s (and between them, but that’s beside the point), so it isn’t surprising that his stamina finally begins to wane. 

Though Sidon jerks them off, it’s Link who brings himself to orgasm, his pace brutal. He fucks himself on Sidon’s cock so thoroughly, angling his hips just right to brush against his prostate. Sidon is hard and leaking inside of him, and though the hand wrapped around his cock helps to push him toward the edge, it’s Link’s own brutal pace that has him coming. 

A roar is ripped out from Link’s throat. He collapses onto Sidon in a haze, still jerking his hips the slightest bit as his prince continues to thrust into him. 

Link allows himself to be filled up by Sidon, his prince ultimately brought to orgasm by the harsh bite placed at Link’s shoulder. Link’s blood never fails to make Sidon go wild, and he’s always happy to provide. 

Both of their breathing is labored, chests heaving and making contact with each other. Link places frantic kisses on whatever part of Sidon’s chest and neck that he can reach, sinking into the ones pressed into his hair.

It’s Link who recovers first, and Sidon is pleasantly surprised when he begins to remove his adornments. Link starts with his circlet, gently removing it even as he continues to pant. The cape is removed next, and then Link begins the process of removing every individual piece of jewelry. 

Sidon watches as Link peels off the white boots, the leather sticking to his sweaty skin. It’s disappointing to see them gone, but so much nicer to have Link’s bare skin pressed up against him.

As stressful as the ball had been, they’ve found solace in one another. Sidon knows that Link is unlikely to attend such an event in the future, but he’s confident that if he asks, Link would wear the uniform again. At the very least, he’d tolerate the boots.

Quiet “I love you”s are exchanged between them, and even bare of their adornments and elegant clothing, it’s clear that they’re taken with one another.


	23. Ghiralink - Marking

Link is…annoyed. 

He hadn’t realized just _how many_ marks are littered across his skin until Zelda had mentioned it, her tone casual but her face painted with a shit-eating grin. He’d told her to leave him alone, and in response, he’d been met with an elbow to his ribs. The stares he’d received at the Bazaar suddenly make sense.

Once Zelda is finished teasing him, Link calls his Loftwing and heads back down to the Surface. He’d come up to Skyloft to run errands, not to be ogled for the hickeys smattered across his neck. Apparently, the months he’s spent living on the Surface with Ghirahim have made him forget that _no,_ it isn’t socially acceptable to run around with visible signs of their rather active sex life.

So he’s annoyed. With himself, with Ghirahim, with whichever one of them let him leave the house looking like this. It isn’t that he doesn’t like the marks (quite the opposite, really), but he would have preferred that all of Skyloft wasn’t made aware of just how far his relationship with Ghirahim goes beyond that of master and sword.

The Faron Woods are quiet, but Link is not. He slams open the door of their small cabin, irritation thick in his voice, “Ghirahim?”

There isn’t an immediate response, but he hears soft footsteps coming from their bedroom. When Ghirahim walks into Link’s line of sight, he’s wearing a smug grin not dissimilar to the one that Zelda had given him earlier. His tone is teasing but clearly genuine in its attempt to get a reaction out of Link.

“Yes, _master?_ ” 

Link flushes bright red, his reaction immediate. Ghirahim had learned quickly that the name gets to him, _especially_ when Link is already worked up. He sets his jaw, determined not to react beyond the redness of his face.

“ _Why_ didn’t you tell me about _this_ _–_ ” he cuts himself off, gesturing wildly toward the red marks covering his exposed neck and collar bones, “Before I went to Skyloft?”

Ghirahim chuckles, the sound filled with mirth. At any other time, Link would sink into the sound and maybe laugh along with him. But he’s annoyed, especially now that it’s apparent that Ghirahim _had_ known, unlike Link who hadn’t even thought to check if his shirt covered the marks, unused to covering them up in the first place.

Words eloquent despite the way he laughs around them, Ghirahim explains himself, “Well, it’s obvious that you’re mine. I just wanted everyone up in the clouds to have a little reminder, especially that Peatrice girl. Besides, you look quite lovely covered in the marks I’ve left on you.”

Link doesn’t respond to that, not with words. He has something in mind, a way to get back at Ghirahim—it’s something they’ll _both_ enjoy. He steps toward Ghirahim, pushing him in the direction of their bedroom. When he doesn’t move right away, Link looks up at him, his eyes wide with a plea. That gets Ghirahim going, causing him to smirk again and push Link into the bedroom himself. 

In a show of strength that both arouses and catches Ghirahim off guard, Link pushes them both onto the bed, settling on Ghirahim’s hips. 

“Since you embarrassed me in front of Zelda, I think that it’s only fair that I return the favor. Don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” followed by, “Do your worst.”

Never one to back down from a challenge, Link does just that. He pushes their lips together only once before moving on. He licks behind Ghirahim’s ears before moving on to drag his teeth along his jaw. He’s teasing with his mouth—if Ghirahim wants to tease him, then why not return the favor?

Though Link doesn’t have fangs like Ghirahim, his teeth are just as effective at sucking dark bruises into his skin. He starts at Ghirahim’s neck, biting down on the sensitive spot just below his ear. 

He’s barely left one mark on Ghirahim’s skin before his breathing begins to pick up. 

“Please, _master,_ ” his tone is just as teasing as before. Link gets to work, eager to have Ghirahim’s smirk twist up into the pleasured expression he knows all too well.

Link licks down Ghirahim’s neck, chasing his tongue with his teeth. Sometimes he’ll leave a bite and move on, but when he nips at a spot and Ghirahim’s breath hitches just right, Link will take his time, sucking a dark mark into pale skin.

On Ghirahim, hickeys look nothing short of _beautiful,_ their appearance almost ethereal. Link doesn’t voice his thoughts out loud, unwilling to feed the Demon Lord’s ego, but he can’t deny the truth. The reds and faint purples of the blossoming hickeys contrast heavily against the pale gray tone of Ghirahim’s skin, and it’s certainly a sight to behold. Link wants to see more, wants to mark Ghirahim as _his_ just as the demon has done for him.

Sucking at Ghirahim’s exposed clavicle gets more of a reaction. There’s less skin around the bone, making it all the more sensitive to Link’s ministrations. Link relishes in the low, raspy moans coming from Ghirahim, the noises going straight to his cock.

Instead of stripping off Ghirahim’s bodysuit, Link works around it. He moves to Ghirahim’s chest, grabbing at his firm pectorals and licking across the muscles there. Ghirahim’s chest is built with muscle and surprisingly _soft,_ so Link takes his time to kiss across the exposed skin before marking it up.

With each mark he leaves on Ghirahim’s chest, Link grows more entranced by the sight. The diamond cutout of Ghirahim’s bodysuit forms a perfect window, showcasing just how much Link enjoys his chest. With each gasping breath, Ghirahim’s chest heaves, showcasing all of the red marks painted across it—little reminders of Link’s love and lust.

Once he’s left enough marks to mimic the shape of the diamond cutout, Link moves on to the second cutout, the one that showcases Ghirahim’s abdomen.

Just like his chest, Ghirahim’s abdomen is muscled, with rippling lines that show just how strong he is. Link licks along the defined lines of Ghirahim’s abs, looking up into gray eyes as he does so. Ghirahim’s noises suddenly grow louder, and he pushes his abdomen up into Link’s face, “Are you going to use your teeth or are you just going to sit there kissing me all day?”

Link growls at the challenge, immediately sinking his teeth into soft skin. Ghirahim responds with a loud whine, his body sinking into the mattress. Rather than a bright red mark, Link has left behind the indent of his teeth. He continues to suck at Ghirahim’s muscles, painfully aware of the hard cock pressed into his chest. If he were to move just a bit lower, he could have _that_ in his mouth… 

Shaking his head, Link focuses back on his task, painting Ghirahim’s skin red with hickeys. When Ghirahim lets out a particularly loud whine, Link responds by leaving behind another indent of his teeth.

The lower cutout perfectly frames Ghirahim’s abs, drawing attention to the splotchy red marks bitten into them. 

Satisfied with his work, Link moves on to the cutouts running down Ghirahim’s thighs, intentionally avoiding his cock. 

“ _Master,_ ” Ghirahim coos, knowing just how much it affects Link. And goddesses does it, his blush stretching to the tips of his twitching ears. It would be _so easy_ to let the name wash over him, to give in and suck Ghirahim’s cock _right now,_ but the Demon Lord is _his,_ just as much as Link belongs to him. He wants to make his claim undeniably clear.

He starts at the top diamond, sucking at Ghirahim’s legs and wishing he had access to the more sensitive skin of his inner thighs. He’s made a bright red mess out of the top of Ghirahim’s right thigh, and he’s barely moved on to the left when a hand fists itself in his hair. 

“My patience has grown thin, little master,” when Link moans, Ghirahim smirks in response, his long tongue spilling out of his mouth to lick his lips, “It’s my turn to have you.”

Link allows himself to be pulled up by his hair. His jaw goes slack as he’s brought into a deep, searing kiss, Ghirahim’s tongue slithering into his mouth as if its intention is to _consume._

With a snap of gloved fingers, Link’s clothing is gone. His moan is muffled by the kiss, and belatedly, he realizes that Ghirahim is naked as well. 

“I’m not going to waste time leaving more marks here,” Ghirahim licks across his neck and collar bones, the skin there already a blotchy patchwork of hickeys.

Crawling down Link’s body with an amount of grace that shouldn’t be possible, Ghirahim settles between his legs. Link wants to look away, but finds it impossible to break the captivating gaze Ghirahim has pinned him down with. Though he’s flustered at the sight of Ghirahim peering up at him from between his thighs, tongue hanging out of his mouth, Link has to admit that he doesn’t really _want_ to look away.

A loud, high-pitched moan is suddenly pulled out of him when Ghirahim bites into the muscled flesh of his inner thigh. Like the marks Link had left across Ghirahim’s abdomen, this is the indent of sharp teeth, rather than a bruise sucked into his skin. Link’s voice is raspy, his breath coming up short, “I didn’t say you could bite me there!”

Ghirahim pulls away in an instant. His hands are wrapped around Link’s thighs, squeezing at the hard muscles and soft skin. He makes no move to lick or kiss or bite Link, despite the way his tongue hangs out of his mouth.

“Why did you stop?” Link’s voice has a whiny, frustrated edge to it.

When he looks between his legs, he’s met with a grin. “You implied that I shouldn’t bite you, so I’m asking now: can I bite you here?” Ghirahim emphasizes his words by licking softly at Link’s thighs, not biting or sucking. It’s meant to show Link exactly where he wants to bite down, yet Link finds even the softest, slightest contact of Ghirahim’s tongue against his skin to be incredibly erotic.

“Yes!” He cries out, flustered by the way his voice squeaks around the word.

Dark chuckles are pressed into the skin of Link’s thighs, sharp teeth already at work. Link whines and keens, squirming mindlessly both away and into Ghirahim’s mouth. The hands at his thighs grip him tighter, holding him still other than allowing him to move _toward_ Ghirahim’s teeth.

Doing just that, Link presses the flesh of his thighs up against and into Ghirahim’s mouth, wanting _more._ Ghirahim bites at his inner thighs, sucking marks into the sensitive flesh there, teasing at the spot where Link’s thigh meets his groin. 

“Master, I want you to suck my cock,” Ghirahim growls into his skin, punctuating his words with another bite. Link loses it at that, the name getting to him more than he’d ever admit. Ghirahim is still clearly in charge, at least right now, but hearing him almost _beg_ for Link’s mouth, while somehow teasing him at the same time and using a title like that… His blush darkens further, clear evidence of just how much the word has affected him. 

“Wanna suck your cock. Wanna suck your cock so badly. Want, want…” He trails off as Ghirahim moves up Link’s body and _oh_ he hadn’t expected that. 

Ghirahim’s cock hangs over his mouth, hard and heavy. Before Link can even reach out and touch it, a long tongue is licking at the head of his own cock.

Both of them…at the same time… 

Oh goddesses. Link surges up, drawing Ghirahim’s cock into his mouth, nearly sucking down the entirety of his length in one movement. Ghirahim twitches in his mouth, letting out a low, drawn-out groan. 

Using the length of his tongue to its full potential, Ghirahim wraps it around the head of Link’s cock and as far down the shaft as he can reach. He sucks Link’s dick into his mouth, moving his tongue and hollowing his cheeks.

Unable to compare in terms of his tongue, Link instead chooses to suck at Ghirahim’s cock, moving his mouth up and down its length. Each time he reaches the tip, Link wraps his lips especially tight around it, tonguing around and around the bulbous head before sucking and then taking the rest of Ghirahim’s length back into his mouth. Ghirahim sits heavy and hot in his mouth, and Link is overwhelmed by the feeling, as well as the feeling of Ghirahim’s tongue moving around his own cock. He moans out around Ghirahim’s length, over and over, the sounds vibrating through his chest and mouth and every part of his body. 

They both come quickly enough, worked up by the painstakingly thorough process of being marked up.

Link swallows around Ghirahim, greedy even as he comes. When he finally pulls away from Ghirahim’s cock, Link lets out a few heaving breaths before surging forward and biting at his thighs. 

They collapse into a fit of laughter and soft moans and whispered affections. The biting eventually leads to them both growing hard again, as is inevitable, and Link treasures each and every bit of pleasure that Ghirahim brings him. Teasing calls of “master” continue to work him up, Link sinking into the intimacy tying them together as master and sword and _so much more._

* * *

The next time Link heads up to Skyloft, he brings Ghirahim with him. He tells himself that he wants to get back at the demon for embarrassing him, but really, he uses it as an excuse to make his claim, just as Ghirahim had.

He should have known that Ghirahim wouldn’t be embarrassed in the slightest, walking about sans cloak in order to show off the red marks put on display by the cutouts of his bodysuit. If anything, Ghirahim is _proud._ Link finds his eyes constantly drawn to the Demon Lord, to the marks that _he_ left on his skin. Suddenly, he doesn’t mind the idea of all of Skyloft knowing just who they both belong to.

When they arrive back home, Link makes sure that they both stake their claim again, over and over, marking each other with the evidence of their passion and love. Ghirahim wears hickeys on his skin better than any clothing, and the burning looks he finds himself pinned beneath tell Link that Ghirahim thinks the same about him. Just for good measure, Ghirahim leans down to suck another mark into his neck, Link returning the gesture in kind.


	24. Midzel - Blindfold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's go lesbians

The sound of footsteps echoes loud in her ears, and Midna smiles to herself. She isn’t sure how long she’s been waiting for Zelda to join her in their bedroom, but it seems that her wait is over. It _is_ Zelda, Midna is confident of that. She knows the sound of her wife’s footsteps by heart.

Zelda is in front of the door now, Midna can tell. There’s a momentary pause, and then the door is swinging open with a low creaking noise.

“ _Oh?_ ” Zelda calls out, her footsteps stilling suddenly. After a moment’s pause, she approaches the bed, stepping lightly until she’s close enough to reach out and stroke a hand through Midna’s hair.

Midna’s face flushes bright red as a result of the tone of Zelda’s voice, but also because of the fact that she’s completely bare in front of her wife. Though she cannot see, she can _feel_ Zelda’s burning gaze as it roams across her body.

Zelda moves her hand ever so slightly, pulling away from Midna’s hair and fingering at the soft silk covering her eyes. She makes sure that the cloth isn’t too tight before she returns to stroking Midna’s hair, allowing her hand to catch on the black silk and drawing Midna’s awareness to its presence. Zelda certainly hadn’t been expecting _this_ after a long day of carrying out her royal duties, but she can’t say that the idea of Midna—naked and wanting and blind to everything but _her_ —is an unwelcome one.

Stroking her thumbs across Midna’s cheeks, Zelda observes just how red they are, how the dark color contrasts so perfectly with her pale blue skin.

Dragging her eyes down Midna’s form once more, Zelda takes her time as she studies every single part of her wife’s naked body. There’s no rush, no hurry, and she enjoys the way that Midna squirms at the feeling of being watched yet unable to see.

Her eyes catch on something she’d missed before. The topmost part of Midna’s inner thighs are shining in the low light of their bedroom, coated in a thin layer of slickness. 

Running a finger through the slick causes Midna to jolt, not expecting a touch she hadn’t been able to see. Zelda chuckles lowly, fond exasperation clear in her voice, “Have you already come?”

She had, to the thought of Zelda finding her like this. Instead of admitting to the details, Midna answers with a simple, “Yes.”

“Would you like to come again?” Zelda ghosts hot breath across the wet mess of Midna’s pussy, causing her to jolt once more. As tempting as her wife is, Zelda refrains from licking or touching, not without permission (and a bit of teasing).

“ _Yes!_ ” Midna moans out in a wanting, impatient plea.

“May I touch you then?” Zelda leans away from Midna, looking her over as she squirms. Her face has grown redder, and Zelda places a soft kiss on both of her cheeks.

“ _Yes,_ come _on_ already!” Midna is even more impatient now, and for that, Zelda decides that she’s going to tease her.

She draws away from Midna’s face, moving silently as she walks along the side of the bed. Midna is unable to see, a fact that Zelda takes advantage of. Each touch and lick and kiss is a surprise for Midna, which makes her reactions all the more zealous, her eagerness impossible to ignore.

Zelda smiles to herself, having already kissed at Midna’s neck and hips. She presses a soft kiss against her lips, intending to catch her off guard once more.

In one smooth movement, Zelda bends down and sucks one of Midna’s nipples into her mouth. Her wife practically _keens_ below her, arching her back and pushing into her mouth. Zelda takes her time to tease Midna with her tongue, moving around and around before chasing her ministrations with a soft nip of her teeth. That has Midna moaning loudly, her body almost shaking. Zelda pulls away, satisfied by the sight of Midna’s dark skin shining with wetness. She moves on to Midna’s other breast, eager to begin the process again.

Finally, Zelda crawls onto the bed, deciding that she’s teased Midna enough (for now).

Impatient herself, Zelda descends on Midna without hesitation. She licks at the mess on Midna’s thighs, her tongue moving in quick, eager strokes. She then licks along the seam of Midna’s folds, tasting the evidence of her previous orgasm. She’s wet and _warm_ and Zelda can’t get enough. 

When Midna starts to angle her hips forward, Zelda chuckles into her skin. Midna is still unable to see, so instead of pushing inside like she might expect, Zelda surges forward and sucks a searing mark into the blue flesh of her hip. Midna’s breath comes out in a short gasp, her hips still pushing toward Zelda’s mouth.

Satisfied with the mark she’s left on her wife (the redness contrasted by her blue skin just as beautifully as the blush across her face), Zelda focuses back on where they both want her.

Hands wrapped tightly around Midna’s thighs, Zelda kisses at her flesh before pushing inside of her. Her movements are graceless, meant for the sole purpose of making Midna squirm with pleasure. She pushes as deep as the length of her tongue can reach, her lips flush with Midna’s flesh. Suddenly, she moves her lips in a pseudo-kiss, clamping down and _sucking_ while her tongue is still inside.

At that, Midna nearly tries to fuck her face. Zelda isn’t opposed to the idea, but it isn’t what she wants now. Reluctantly, she pulls away, denying Midna of the pleasure of pushing Zelda’s tongue deeper inside of herself.

Zelda wants to see Midna’s thighs shining with slickness once more, to leave her wife wet and wanting for Zelda to make her come again and again. So she wraps her lips around Midna’s clit, sucking harshly. At that, Midna’s thighs tremble, her moans loud and breathy. Zelda smiles into her skin, using her tongue to flick across Midna’s most sensitive spot, occasionally stopping the movements of her tongue to suck at her again.

Midna can come from this alone, Zelda is sure, but she doesn’t mind helping her along. Midna, still unable to see, jolts in surprise when Zelda presses a finger up against her folds. Zelda pauses, waiting for Midna to moan and babble her approval. With a soft smile, Zelda pushes her finger inside.

Greedy as ever, Midna cants her hips, this time into Zelda’s finger, drawing it further inside of herself. She whines and moans, throwing her head about in ecstasy. Zelda pushes another finger into her wife, nearly crying out herself at the way Midna’s clit twitches in her mouth, her thighs a trembling mess. 

She reaches as deep as she’s able, curling her fingers just the way Midna likes it. It isn’t enough to make her come, it never is, but the mouth on her clit is more than enough, the fingers inside of her making the pleasure even sweeter.

With one last long, insistent suck at Midna’s clit, she comes, twitching in Zelda’s mouth as her thighs shake with the intensity of her orgasm. Zelda fucks her through it in a way that will make her pleasure soar even higher, but she immediately pulls away when it becomes clear that Midna is becoming overstimulated. She’s always been sensitive

Zelda kisses at the inside of Midna’s thighs, her lips soft against the trembling flesh. When Midna finally seems to come back down, Zelda peers up at her, only to see that she’s fumbling with the black silk of the blindfold.

“Leave that on. I’m not done with you yet,” she punctuates her words with a quick, teasing flick of her tongue across Midna’s clit, still sensitive but not so much that she shouldn’t be touched.

Midna moans at her words, and Zelda smiles. She crawls up the bed, laying down next to her wife. She pulls Midna into a kiss, letting her taste herself on Zelda’s tongue. Her mouth is warm and hot, and Zelda is eager to feel that heat pressed up against her own flesh. She urges her lover forward with soft touches and quiet guidance, pushing Midna down the bed.

Still dressed for a day in court, Zelda gathers up her skirts, rather than remove her dress. There’s something inherently erotic about seeing Midna laying between her legs, completely naked, while Zelda is still dressed. 

With one last push against her head, Midna settles in the perfect spot. 

Zelda’s panties are already wet, and the feeling of Midna’s hot breath ghosting across them is heavenly. The silk and lace clings to her skin, and the breath against her only emphasizes just how wet she is. 

Tangling a hand in Midna’s blazing hair, Zelda urges her forward. It takes her a few moments of licking and kissing to figure out where exactly her mouth _is,_ but she doesn’t need to see to know how to pleasure her wife.

There’s something incredibly arousing about being unable to see yet having her face pressed up against Zelda’s panties. She can _taste_ her like never before, and she enjoys the feeling of Zelda’s insistent hand in her hair, urging her forward. Always aiming to please but more than okay with teasing, Midna licks at Zelda through her panties, the fabric growing even more wet.

She sucks at Zelda’s clit through the fabric, licking at it before running her tongue down, down, across the seam of her lips. She’s wet here, the soaked panties only made worse by Midna’s mouth. With a grin, Midna brings both flesh and fabric into her mouth to suck. 

When the hand in her hair grows truly impatient, pulling more harshly, Midna yanks down Zelda’s panties. She pulls them down to Zelda’s knees but no further, too impatient to bother pulling them all the way off. Zelda doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s instantly distracted by Midna’s mouth upon her. 

Mimicking her wife’s earlier actions, Midna first runs her tongue along Zelda, collecting slick on her tongue and savoring the taste. She pushes inside soon enough, her tongue wild and wriggling, seeking out heat and wetness and the taste that’s uniquely _Zelda._ She wants to spend all of her time like this, her face pressed flush against Zelda’s pussy, her tongue straining to reach deeper while her jaw is overcome with that pleasant ache she knows all too well. 

“Fuck my face,” she murmurs into the skin just below Zelda’s clit, always frank with her requests. If anything, she’s the one begging for it, wanting to have Zelda’s pussy thrusted against her face, her tongue pushed deeper than she thought possible. Teasing, she flicks her tongue across Zelda’s clit before moving lower. 

Almost immediately after Midna pushes into Zelda once more, the hand in her hair tightens, pulling Midna even closer. Midna moans around Zelda, her mouth full. She brings up a hand to press and stroke at Zelda’s clit, urging her movements. 

After that initial pull, Zelda keeps her hand firm on Midna’s hair but thrusts her hips forward, pushing Midna’s face flush with her heated flesh, the Twili’s wriggling tongue reaching impossibly deeper. 

Midna can’t see a thing, so each thrust up against her face takes her by surprise in the most pleasant way. She’s already wet again, her thighs surely a mess. Each time Zelda pushes up against her face, Midna focuses on the feeling of soft skin nearly drowning her, of the heat wrapped around her mouth and tongue. Her ears are hypersensitive to the sounds of Zelda’s soft moans, enjoying it even more when she cries out loudly after Midna pushes particularly hard at her clit. Her tongue squelches wetly inside of Zelda, the sound somehow louder than her moans. Robbed of her sight, Midna focuses on everything else, including the taste of Zelda. Everything is more intense, and it’s easy to sink into the sensations of having her face fucked.

Zelda comes quicker than Midna would have liked, wanting to have her face fucked over and over until all she could breathe and taste and feel is Zelda. Instead, she feels strong thighs clamp down around her face, pulling her in closer as they shake around her. Midna pulls her tongue out from inside of Zelda, licking up the slick mess between her legs as her wife comes down from her orgasm.

With a loud sigh and heaving breaths, Zelda’s thighs finally relax around Midna’s face. Still unable to see, Midna allows herself to be guided up, up, and pulled into a kiss that’s soft and searing all at once. 

Blindfolded as she is, Midna jolts in surprise when Zelda runs a finger across her slit, dragging her finger through the slickness gathered there. She chuckles into their kiss, pulling away to whisper against Midna’s lips, “You’re absolutely _insatiable,_ darling. But that’s quite alright. I can’t deny that I want your mouth on me again. I promise to thoroughly exhaust you if you’ll return the favor, though you must leave that pretty cloth on your face.”

Midna nods immediately, her eagerness clear. She’s aching for her wife, wanting to come over and over and provide her with the same pleasure. 

She allows Zelda to push and prod at her once more, settling with her mouth between her legs. Zelda’s mouth is between her own, and she surges forward without warning, licking a hot stripe up her folds and to her clit, where her tongue flicks once, twice, before pulling away. 

Rumbling words are pressed into the slickness gathered at her inner thighs, Zelda’s tongue following soon after to lick it up, “We’re both going to come like this, and then I’m going to fuck your face again. We’re going to make each other come until we’re both exhausted, and _then_ I’ll take the blindfold off. 

Midna moans in response, and though her eyes are covered, she gets to work right away, knowing by heart just where to pleasure Zelda. Sinking into her wife, Midna allows herself to be overcome with every sensation she’s met with, making sure to return them with fervor.


	25. Ghiralink - Bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk if this is even technically considered bondage it's so light, but it's what i wanted to write.
> 
> trans link AND trans ghirahim + service top link and power bottom ghirahim.
> 
> lotta mixing shit up here so i hope it's enjoyable.

“I want you to tie me up,” Ghirahim pauses, licks his lips, then continues, “But only my hands.”

Link is okay with that. Link is more than okay with that. He says so, voicing his approval and flushing at the grin he receives in return. He’s eager to please, wanting to do whatever it is that Ghirahim asks of him. 

The rope that’s handed to him is soft, but when he pulls at both ends to test its strength, he’s pleasantly surprised. He crawls into Ghirahim’s lap to tie his hands behind his back, peering over his shoulder to make sure that the knots aren’t too tight. 

Ghirahim tries to pull his hands apart, satisfied when the rope holds true but doesn’t chafe his wrists. He surges up toward Link, pulling him into a kiss even without the use of his hands. His tongue pushes into Link’s mouth, its length scraping against his teeth and licking across his lips when he pulls away.

“I want you to fuck me,” he says, leering up into Link’s face, pulling him into yet another rough kiss. 

Who is Link to say no to a request like that?

He crawls out of Ghirahim’s lap, moving down his body to settle with his head between his legs. Ghirahim is already wet, always insatiable, so Link wastes no time in licking along his slit before sucking his cock into his mouth. Ghirahim chokes around a moan, leaning forward but struggling with the fact that he’s unable to bury a hand in Link’s hair as he usually would. He wants to push Link’s mouth up against him and _hold him there,_ but instead he’s forced to watch as Link licks and sucks at his dick.

Patience wearing thin, Ghirahim thrusts his hips forward, knowing that Link loves it when he’s like this, loves when he takes control of the way that he’s fucked.

“You know, when I asked you to fuck me, I didn’t mean like this,” Ghirahim’s voice is torn between a whisper and a growl. He peers down at Link between his legs, watching as he licks his clit once, twice, before pulling away.

“What did you mean?” As soon as Link speaks the question aloud, realization dawns on his face. Ghirahim chuckles darkly, though he’s unable to pull Link up by the hair for a kiss the way he wants to. Instead, he whispers sweet nothings into the air between them, his voice so low that Link’s ears strain and twitch with the effort of taking in every single word.

Though his hands are bound, Ghirahim is able to snap his fingers, the sound ringing out. Tiny diamonds flake off into the air as an object appears on the bed. Link is quick to snatch it up, his hands more than familiar with the leather straps of the harness. With practiced ease, he pulls the harness up around his hips and thighs, pulling the straps tight. 

“Is this still okay?” Link asks, his voice low and quiet.

Rather than answering, Ghirahim takes action. He clambers up into Link’s lap, overbalancing himself and nearly knocking them both over. Hands tied behind his back, Ghirahim mutters angrily to himself.

“You _asked_ to be tied up,” Link reminds him, but his tone is soft enough that they both know he’ll untie Ghirahim if he asks. Link observes Ghirahim’s face, taking in the tiniest blush that dusts across his cheeks and the way he avoids eye contact but lets his tongue hang out of his mouth. 

Using his strength in a way that he knows drives Ghirahim wild, Link hoists him up, moving both of them across the bed so that he’s sitting up against the wall. He settles Ghirahim in his lap, stroking across his thighs.

“Fuck me,” Ghirahim is beyond needy now, nearly whining out his demand. Unable to use his hands to push himself up on Link’s shoulders, he instead grinds his slit along the hard object between his legs.

Link grabs onto Ghirahim’s hips, stilling his movements. He isn’t one to tease—usually he’s willing to carry out any and every order he’s given. But for once, he wants Ghirahim to have to work for his obedience. With one hand firm on Ghirahim’s hip, Link grabs at the toy, teasing the head of it against his folds, reveling in the soft slick noises the motion makes.

“ _Master,_ ” Ghirahim whispers into his ear, his tone sickeningly sweet. That long tongue of his reaches out of his mouth and curls around the tip of Link’s pointed ear, causing it to grow red and flutter at the sensation. Ghirahim knows how weak the word makes Link, how much it makes him want to do _anything_ to please him. It takes everything Link has not to snap and give in.

When the licking proves ineffective, Ghirahim instead bites at Link’s ear, ghosting hot breath across the wet skin. This time when he makes his plea, it can barely be called that, his voice rumbling with darkness, “Please _master._ Fuck me.”

That’s all it takes for Link to snap. 

“Okay,” he punctuates the softness of the single word with a sweet kiss, fumbling with the toy between his legs so that it’s pressed against Ghirahim just right. 

Instead of thrusting up into him or even guiding him into place, Link allows Ghirahim to sink down at his own pace. He holds the shaft steady, thumbing at the edges of Ghirahim’s folds and playing with the slickness he finds there.

Ghirahim, impatient as he is, sinks down onto the toy faster than Link had been expecting. Link watches as he growls out in frustration, wriggling his wrists about. Usually, when they have sex like this, Ghirahim will wrap his arms around Link’s shoulders, using the leverage to help fuck himself. With his hands tied behind his back, he’s forced to rely on the strength of his thighs and core alone, and what a sight that is.

“Do you want me to untie you?” 

“ _No!_ ” He growls out, his voice pitching up into a moan. Affirming his conviction, Ghirahim pushes up onto his knees, thighs trembling with the effort, and allows himself to fall back down, slamming the shaft deep inside of him with a wet squelch.

Link can’t come untouched, but the sounds Ghirahim is making are driving him toward the edge faster than he could have imagined.

Grunts and growls ring out in addition to the moans, the product of Ghirahim’s frustration. He gnashes his teeth around empty air, and Link guides his head forward to latch onto his neck. He’s surprisingly loud even with the way his sounds are muffled, each moan and whine coursing through Link’s skin and into his very being. 

“Harder,” Ghirahim growls out around Link’s skin, continuing to bite and suck at his neck.

Link obliges Ghirahim, always eager. He can feel slickness gathering between his own legs; he’s easily worked up by the sounds and sight and _feeling_ of Ghirahim fucking himself above him.

“Touch–” Ghirahim cuts himself off with a moan, the sound punched out of him by a particularly hard thrust from Link. His thighs tremble with the effort of holding himself up, but he continues talking around moans and gasping breaths, “Touch my dick!”

Rushing to do what Ghirahim has asked (demanded, really), Link unlatches one of his hands from around his hips, fingers seeking out where Ghirahim wants him most. He can’t help the way that he presses up against Ghirahim’s slit, wanting to feel the way the toy moves inside of him, pressing in and out with each smooth thrust. Ghirahim is _soaking,_ so it’s easy enough to get his dick wet from the slick on his fingers. 

Long legs framing Link’s hips, Ghirahim clamps down his thighs, stopping his movements. Instead, he chooses to grind up against him and the toy inside of him. Link’s fingers are insistent, flicking and rubbing at Ghirahim’s clit in time with the movement of his hips. 

The teeth at his neck sink in deeper than before, leaving an imprint of them among the hickeys already littering Link’s neck. They dig in deeper with each touch to his dick, Ghirahim still loud and wanting.

Everything about it is too much for Link, for Ghirahim, for them both. The _sounds_ alone are overwhelming, from the way that Ghirahim clenches and squelches around the shaft inside of him to the endless stream of moans and words and growls that fall from his lips. Link isn’t quiet, either—his breaths come out in harsh pants, each movement Ghirahim makes above him causing him to let out quiet, wanting moans. 

With a cry of Link’s name that’s a plea for closeness rather than ecstasy, Ghirahim comes, his thighs shaking as they remain tightly clamped around Link’s hips. His body collapses onto Link, head resting on his shoulders as his chest heaves with the effort it takes to breathe. 

Link is careful as he pulls the toy out from inside of Ghirahim, watching as he clenches down around it. The object is covered in a thin layer of slick, and the insides of his thighs shine under the light, further evidence of the mess he’s become. 

With Ghirahim still draped across his body, Link is careful with his movements. It’s easy enough to remove the harness and toss it aside, though his hands fumble occasionally. His own dick is aching, and there’s almost as much of a mess painted between his thighs. He’s reaching down to jerk himself off—practically _throbbing_ with the need to come—when his hand is grabbed and held in place.

Distracted as he was by his own arousal, Link had failed to notice Ghirahim escaping the rope tying his wrists together. Hands free and more than eager to _finally_ be put to use, Ghirahim reaches down to tease at Link’s folds.

“Let me make you feel good, _master_ …” Ghirahim whispers in his ear, his tongue following his words to wrap around the pointed tip. It’s a promise and a request all in one, and Link has never been able to deny Ghirahim when he asks like that.

Link nods his permission, and Ghirahim fulfills his promise.


	26. Midzel - Bath Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bath sex somehow turned into sexy succubus!midna au i don't know what happened. as always i'm a HUGE sap and couldn't write porn without exposition and feelings.
> 
> last midzel for kinktober i will miss writing these two.
> 
> enjoy!

The sound of sloshing water echoes throughout the bathroom as Zelda shifts to lay down in the tub. It’s some fancy thing with clawed feet on the bottom and jets lining the inside. Before purchasing her (first) house, Zelda didn’t take baths often, but they’ve become a common occurrence by now.

Yet another common occurrence makes its presence known, and Zelda heaves a tired sigh, the hot water suddenly not as relaxing.

A chill runs down her spine from the cold air that’s seeping into the room, and she turns around to face the window. There Midna stands, naked as ever with skin both dark as night and light as a clear sky. For some reason, she’s holding her hands over her eyes, shielding them from view.

“What are you doing?” Zelda questions. The faintest bit of fondness trickles in along with her annoyance.

“Look, I _may_ be a succubus, but that doesn’t mean I would peep on you!” Her hands tremble slightly from the effort it takes to hold back from gesticulating with them. Zelda finds it strangely adorable. As an afterthought, she adds, “Not on purpose…”

Another sigh escapes Zelda, though this one isn’t nearly as tired or heavy. Though Midna can’t see her, she gestures vaguely in her direction, “At least shut the window. Please.”

The cold air rushes away along with the creaking of the window. Midna remains silent. 

Zelda turns completely around, the sound of sloshing water loud as it breaks the silence. She peers up at Midna, at her bare body and fiery hair, at the thin, spade-tipped tail that sways near her feet, at the black horns nestled amongst the wild strands of her hair. Her hands still adamantly cover her eyes, though Zelda knows by now that they’re like a sunset—soft yellow taken over by burning red.

“I…Should I come back at a better time?” Zelda can’t help but laugh at her question. Midna is a _succubus,_ she feeds off of sex, so the fact that she cares about Zelda’s privacy is laughably sweet. It means more than she knows how to express with words.

Midna is strange, an enigma really. She’s been visiting Zelda for months now, and each time she comes, she offers (begs for it, really) to have sex. At first, Zelda had known nothing about succubi, hadn’t even known that they _exist._ But she’s always willing to do some research. Apparently, it’s rather abnormal for a succubus to continually visit the same person, especially when sex isn’t even involved. Zelda has to admit that Midna has grown on her, with her long legs and two-toned skin and the…everything about her. Maybe she’s more than grown on her. But Zelda isn’t a fan of noncommittal sex, and she won’t let herself be seduced by Midna.

But seducing Midna…? She isn’t opposed to the idea.

“Why don’t you join me?” Her tone is innocent enough but her words are not.

Watching expressions flutter across Midna’s half-covered face is more than entertaining. Though Zelda can’t see her eyes, she can see the way her lips purse and the blush that erupts across the blue skin of her cheeks.

“I thought…” she trails off, eyes still covered, “I’ve asked so many times, so why is it different now?”

“Because I’m the one asking,” Zelda murmurs. 

Midna takes a step toward the tub, her footsteps unsure as her eyes are still covered. Zelda chuckles softly, “You can uncover your eyes.”

Zelda’s body is pressed flush with the edge of the tub, her face propped up on her hands. She isn’t denying Midna the sight of her body on purpose, but it works in her favor to do so. They need to have a conversation before Zelda is willing to truly attempt to seduce the succubus.

Beckoning her to the edge of the tub, Zelda reaches out a hand to Midna. She expects Midna to grasp it with her own, but instead she sits down next to the tub, pushing the soft skin of her cheek up into Zelda’s touch. The gesture is overwhelmingly soft, to the point that Zelda can feel herself growing weak at the knees. 

“Midna.” Calling her name seems to bring her out of the soft haze of Zelda’s touch, her eyes wide and staring directly into baby blues. Zelda clears her throat before she continues, “I know that succubi don’t tend to make repeat visits, especially not when they aren’t getting anything out of it. What are you getting out of this?”

The blush that spreads across Midna’s cheeks says more than words ever could. Zelda’s suspicions are confirmed: Midna has some kind of feelings for her, something that runs deeper than her need for sex.

“I like you like that too, you know. You should be honest with your feelings, because you’re so transparent I was able to figure it out all on my own,” she smiles softly, bringing her other hand up to card through Midna’s orange hair, petting softly at the base of her pointed horns. It’s impossible to miss the way that Midna’s blush intensifies, her face burning red. Tilting her head and continuing the soft touches, Zelda urges Midna to speak.

“I’ve never even had feelings like this for a human! You’re so pretty, I couldn’t help wanting to see you again, but it quickly became less about your face and your body and more about _you,_ ” Zelda can feel the sincerity dripping off of her words, confirmed by the liveliness of Midna’s tail as it sways side to side.

It’s enough for her to feel satisfied, confirming her suspicion that Midna wants more than just sex. But, well…sex certainly wouldn’t hurt, especially after denying herself for so long. Zelda can’t deny that she’s had her fair share of gazing at Midna too—she’s beyond what the word “beautiful” could ever hope to encompass. It doesn’t help that she doesn’t wear any clothing. Can Zelda really be blamed for wanting to have sex with Midna?

“My offer still stands, you know,” Zelda murmurs, her voice thicker than before.

“What offer?” Midna cocks her head to the side, pushing it further into Zelda’s hand. 

“The offer to join me. You’ll have to make your mind up quickly though, or else the water will get cold,” Zelda’s voice carries a distinct edge of arousal, low and thick as she gazes into Midna’s widened eyes. 

Tail thumping frantically against the tile floor, Midna quickly nods her head.

Zelda smiles and beckons her forward. She hadn’t been lying about the water, but she suspects that they’ll keep each other plenty warm. Turning around so that she’s no longer pressed up against the side of the tub, she watches as Midna slowly lowers herself into the hot water, her eyes directed everywhere _but_ Zelda.

“You can look, you know. It’s only fair, seeing how much I’ve looked at your naked body, gorgeous as you are,” as soon as Zelda’s words leave her mouth, Midna’s eyes fixate on her chest. She can’t help but laugh.

“Do you want to touch them?” Zelda grins at the way Midna frantically nods her head.

Midna is slow in her approach, as if she’s worried she’ll scare Zelda off. Her tail hangs over the side of the tub, slapping softly at the porcelain. Zelda holds still as Midna gropes at her breasts, her touches by no means tentative. She can’t help the soft whines and moans that fall from her mouth, especially when Midna leans down and licks around one of her nipples, all while looking up at Zelda and maintaining eye contact. Her tongue is long—certainly longer than a human’s—and black. Seeing it gives Zelda _many_ ideas, none of them innocent.

Eventually, Zelda reaches out for Midna’s hair, stroking it and scratching softly at the base of her horns. She feels her way up the black points with her fingers, surprised by the moan that rumbles out of Midna’s throat.

“Feel good?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Midna responds, her voice muffled by the flesh of Zelda’s breast as she sucks it into her mouth. She moves onto Zelda’s other nipple, wrapping her tongue around and around it before sucking it into her mouth. A playful nibble causes Zelda to moan loudly, so she does it again. 

A soft hand on Midna’s shoulder pulls her out of her haze. She pulls away to meet Zelda’s eyes, searching through pools of blue.

“Your hair is going to get in the way,” Zelda says softly, reaching into the basket that hangs off the side of the tub. “Can I tie it up for you?”

Zelda’s hair is in a high bun atop her head, messy but somehow elegant. Assuming that Zelda will style her hair the same way, Midna turns around, giving Zelda her back so that she’s able to touch her hair. 

Having expected a simple bun, Midna is surprised when Zelda adds in two small braids along the side of her head. Her movements are deft and quick, but Midna savors the touches all the same. Finished with the braids, Zelda pulls all of Midna’s hair up into a bun that’s similar to her own. From her shoulder blades to the middle of her back, Midna’s skin is black, where a hard line separates it from the light blue. Zelda traces across the line, at both the black and blue skin, taking in everything that is Midna.

She pulls Midna back against her chest, giving her time and space to pull away if that’s what she wants.

“I want to touch you. Is that okay? I want to make you come for me,” Zelda murmurs into the shell of Midna’s ear, her hands grasping lightly at her shoulders.

Midna moans around her words, “Yes! Yes, Zelda, please!”

Zelda wastes no time after that. Her arms encircle Midna near the bottom of her ribcage, wrapping her hands around to grab at her breasts. They’re soft in her hands and though Zelda is impatient, she takes the time to tease Midna and figure out exactly what she likes. 

It becomes clear rather quickly that Midna likes it rougher than Zelda does. She doesn’t mind at all, eager to provide whatever it is that Midna likes. She sucks marks into Midna’s neck, her fingers pinching and pulling at her nipples. Midna’s tail still hangs over the side of the tub, and curious as she is, Zelda grabs at it. It twitches in her hand, and Midna lets out her loudest moan yet. 

Though Midna is taller than her, it’s still manageable for Zelda to reach around her and push her hand between her legs. She wants to use her mouth, but she knows that they’ll have plenty of time for that _later._ Zelda doesn’t have the patience to dry them off and walk to the bed, not before they’ve both come. 

She enjoys touching Midna’s inner thighs, constantly teasing toward where her hand is truly wanted. Her other hand remains occupied with Midna’s breasts, still pulling enticing sounds out of her.

Finally giving in to Midna’s insistent rolling of her hips, Zelda touches at her lips, pulling them apart and watching as Midna squirms under her exploratory touches. She doesn’t push inside, not under the water like this where her slickness is washed away. Zelda knows from experience that penetration under the water isn’t always the most pleasurable feeling. She’s fine with saving that for later, because as much as she would love to feel Midna’s warmth wrapped around her fingers or tongue, it isn’t what she _needs_ most of all.

Bored of teasing, Zelda hones in on Midna’s clit, immediately starting off at a bruising pace. Midna leans back into her, laying her head on Zelda’s shoulder and moaning directly into her ear. Some of her moans cut off into rumbling noises and tiny growls, but it’s clear that they all mean that she’s enjoying herself. 

Zelda circles Midna’s clit, switching from circular motions to small flicks from side to side. Each time she pushes to the side, Midna’s thighs twitch the slightest bit; it’s clear that it’s immensely enjoyable. 

Pulling her other hand away from Midna’s breasts, Zelda grabs at her tail. She strokes it softly in her hand, following along with the movements of her fingers against Midna’s clit. 

Like this, it doesn’t take long for Midna to come. Her thighs tremble even more as Zelda fucks her through her orgasm, immediately pulling away when her clit twitches beneath her touch. Midna’s head lays out further against her shoulder, her entire body going slack and boneless. Zelda can’t help but press a gentle kiss against the side of her neck.

With soft whispers that are _much_ too sappy and romantic considering they’ve just now confessed their feelings, Zelda brings Midna down from her orgasm.

Almost as soon as her breathing levels out, Midna is turning around to face Zelda, pulling her into a heady kiss. It’s only then that she realizes this is the first time they’ve kissed. She chuckles to herself at the fact that they’ve done things a bit out of order, but smiles into the kiss nonetheless.

Soon enough, Midna becomes insistent, pushing that long tongue of hers into Zelda’s mouth and biting at her bottom lip.

“Your hair fell down from its bun,” Midna points out, and Zelda realizes that yes, it had. Unable to find her hair tie, she asks Midna to dig another one out of the basket on the side of the tub. 

When Midna turns back around, the hair tie isn’t the only thing she has. With a grin that’s wide and impish, Midna holds up Zelda’s vibrator.

“Can I put your hair back up? And then maybe I can use this on you?” Midna questions, fiddling with the button on the bottom, turning the bullet vibrator on higher and higher settings and watching the way Zelda squirms at the sight.

“Yes to both,” Zelda sighs out, and turns around so that Midna can style her hair.

Just as Zelda had done for Midna, she layers in tiny braids along with the bun. The braids that Midna does are admittedly sloppy, but Zelda enjoys them all the same. Once her bun is securely in place, she allows Midna to turn her around and pull her into her lap. 

Zelda has Midna pushed up against the side of the tub, yet she feels like the one who is cornered. Despite that, Zelda holds out her hand for the vibrator, explaining that it’s waterproof and showing Midna what setting she likes the most. She’s aching to come, but she’s also incredibly excited to get Midna in her bed. She doesn’t mind using the vibrator to speed along the process of her orgasm.

Midna shows her no mercy. She isn’t rough or anything of the sort, but she doesn’t tease or play with Zelda at all, immediately pressing the tip of the vibrator up against her clit.

Surprised, Zelda cries out loudly, rocking slightly in Midna’s lap. Midna experiments with the tiniest of circles as well as different levels of pressure. Still impatient, Zelda eventually pushes forward to grind against the vibrator, crying out as it presses into her clit. She needs pressure and consistency.

Grabbing Midna’s hand to show her exactly how she likes it, Zelda pushes the vibrator up against her clit with a fair amount of pressure, holding it still and making sure it stays in the exact spot she wants it. Midna pulls her into kiss after kiss, but she leaves her hand in place, both of them effectively pushing Zelda toward her orgasm. 

Using the vibrator had been intended to speed things along, and it’s no surprise when it does exactly that. Soon enough, Zelda’s thighs are trembling as her vision begins to blur at the edges. Holding Midna’s hand steady takes the last shred of coherence she has, and eventually the consistent pleasure pushes her over the edge.

She sees white and then black, overcome with the intensity of her orgasm as she collapses against Midna. 

When she finally comes down, the first thing she notices is that the water has gone cold. Laughing to herself, Zelda clings more tightly to Midna, seeking out her warmth.

Guiding them both out of the bathtub, Zelda is overcome with a fluttering in her chest when Midna insists on drying her off. This is still new, but she’s known Midna for months, so it’s only natural that this would happen eventually.

An “I love you” is on the tip of her tongue, and though she doesn’t say it aloud, she catches glimpses of it in Midna’s eyes and knows that her own are the same. 

“Why don’t you join me?” She beckons Midna to her bedroom, though they both know she means something beyond that. Without hesitation, Midna follows Zelda, saying yes to both.


	27. Ghiralink - Role Reversal (Gemplay)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shit's behind again but i'm doing my most. 3869 words hehe nice but also wow very long.
> 
> lowkey feel like this is my best ghiralink piece yet??? it was so fun what the fuck
> 
> love these 2

“You’re lucky you made it out of that one alive, little hero,” Ghirahim coos into his ear, arms wrapped around Link’s shoulders.

Koloktos had been challenging to take down. Ghirahim’s indignant whining had only added to the difficulty of the fight, his words grating each time Link dared to pick up one of Koloktos’ swords instead of his own. In a way, his jealousy is almost cute, but his voice is still distracting enough that Link often wishes he would keep quiet. 

It’s always like this when Link fights. Ghirahim prefers to stay out of the sword almost constantly, and he _always_ emerges to watch Link fight. Occasionally he’ll join in, citing his need for bloodshed. Link finds it strange, but then, almost everything about Ghirahim is strange. 

Despite the fact that Ghirahim is made of solid metal, Link is able to push his arms away, walking toward the room that houses the Sacred Flame. He stumbles on one of the pieces of Koloktos’ body, and though Ghirahim catches him, his help comes along with teasing words. Link is annoyed, but he swallows down any sort of retort along with a few sips of Heart Potion. He feels better almost instantly, his steps more confident. He pushes Ghirahim’s hands away once more, though he’s unable to ignore the way they try to cling to him.

The room is rather dark, though Link can see well enough that he doesn’t stumble again. Ghirahim instructs him to perform a Skyward Strike on the emblem in the center of the room, and Link obeys. 

Green flames erupt from the brazier, flaring broadly before calming back down. The fire nearly reaches the ceiling, the Sacred Flame bathing the area around it in a soft, warm glow. The green light only does so much; the rest of the room is cast in shadow, the dancing flames spreading both darkness and light.

Stepping out from behind him, Ghirahim approaches the brazier before taking a running jump into the flames. Link startles and gasps, worry instantly taking over. His eyes frantically search through the flames, his heartbeat only slowing down when he hears Ghirahim’s throaty chuckles echoing from within the Sacred Flame. His worries eased, Link takes a step back from the brazier, only to be startled once more as Ghirahim emerges from the fire, covering the ground around him with green flames. More chuckles tell Link that Ghirahim had startled him on purpose, and he can’t help but frown.

The heat of the flames before him draws his attention, and Link is caught off guard by the beauty he finds there. The bright green light of the Sacred Flame bounces off of the black metal of Ghirahim’s body, causing him to glow in a way that’s nothing short of ethereal. Though the fire is dynamic, it’s Ghirahim that demands his attention.

“Alright, little hero. Raise the sword,” he grins, the bright whites of his fangs glinting green, “You’d best hope that your grip is strong.”

With that, Ghirahim leaps forward into the blade, drawing the fire along with him. The blade is blacker than obsidian, yet it glows almost as beautifully as Ghirahim had under the light of the Sacred Flame. The force is intense, and Link barely keeps the sword from hitting him in the face, though he manages to maintain his grip. He’s sure that Ghirahim is chuckling at the amount of effort he has to use.

When the force finally fades, the Sacred Flame flares once more, and Ghirahim emerges from the sword. Link holds the blade out in front him, and they both watch as it grows in length and power. 

“Would you look at that. Somehow, I’ve managed to become even more beautiful. I’d thought it impossible, and yet…” Surprisingly gentle, he grabs the sword from Link, running his metallic fingers along its edge. When Ghirahim hands the sword back, he grins wide to bare his fangs, his tongue slipping out of his mouth, “Don’t you agree, Link? Don’t you find me beautiful?” 

“Stop.”

It’s the first thing he’s said to Ghirahim since their fight with Koloktos, and his voice is louder than he’d intended it to be.

“Stop teasing me. Don’t say and do things you don’t mean. I can’t deal with it anymore,” Link looks at the ground, at the brazier, anywhere but at Ghirahim and his stupidly attractive face and his fangs and his _tongue._

Link almost rolls his eyes when Ghirahim starts to chuckle. He’s growing sick of the noise, especially when it’s at his expense. Deeper than his laughter, Ghirahim’s voice is low and suddenly gravelly, “How do you know I don’t mean it, little hero? That’s quite the assumption to make.”

Flushing to the tips of his ears, Link’s words feel like hot fire as he spits them out of his mouth, “Because _I know you._ I know how you are. I know it’s beyond stupid to have feelings for someone like you, but I can’t help it, and you only make it worse.”

A hand warmed by fire presses beneath his chin, pulling Link up to meet white eyes. Cupping his cheek now, Ghirahim’s voice rumbles through him, “Oh? You know, some might say that Sword Spirits such as myself are incapable of experiencing emotions and _feelings._ I think we both know that’s untrue, at least in my case.”

Link snorts out the tiniest laugh. That’s the understatement of the century. Ghirahim is nothing if not dramatic and emotional, wearing his strong personality on his sleeve. Ghirahim glares down at Link with narrowed eyes, and he quickly stifles any remaining laughter. 

“I must admit that I’ve grown rather…fond of you during our time together. All of this is to say that I don’t wish to stop teasing you, because there is meaning behind each and every one of my actions,” his voice is just as low, just as deep, yet it carries the slightest hint of softness.

Eyes widening at the implication of Ghirahim’s words, Link flushes further. It’s probably the closest to a confession that he’ll get, and Link is overjoyed. He knows that the warmth seeping into him isn’t solely from the hand cradling his face. Despite it all, Link finds himself wanting more. He’s always been one to push his luck, and though his blush burns bright, he _pushes,_ his words thick with a challenge, “ _Prove it._ ”

Daring to meet Ghirahim’s eyes, Link watches as they open almost comically wide before an impish grin spreads across his face. Link gulps at that, wondering if maybe he shouldn’t have pushed. 

With a yelp, Link is yanked up into Ghirahim’s arms. He’s tall enough that Link knows he’ll slide to the ground if he doesn’t hang on. Despite his embarrassment, he does just that, wrapping his legs around Ghirahim’s hips and his arms around his shoulders. Warm lips brush against the shell of his ear, “Alright, Link.”

Moving away from his ear, Ghirahim’s lips brush against his own and _oh_ they’re kissing. Link’s eyes slip shut with a quiet gasp, allowing sensation to take over. Ghirahim’s lips are warm yet distinctly metallic, neither hard nor soft. His body is _strong,_ and while Link had already known that, it’s different when he’s the target of Ghirahim’s strength. His body is smooth wherever Link touches him, yet he still burns warm from the fire inside of him. His arms and chest are well-muscled, and Link’s hands wander as he continues kissing Ghirahim. 

Something wet pokes at his lips and he parts them eagerly. Ghirahim’s tongue pushes into his mouth, warm and wet yet still sharp. Ghirahim tastes like the warmth of a hearth, like fresh-forged steel, like something light and airy that Link has no idea how to describe. 

“ _Little hero,_ ” when Ghirahim speaks, Link can feel the way his words rumble through him where their chests are pressed together. 

A hand grabs at one of his own, holding it in place. Link glances downward and realizes somewhat belatedly that he’d been brushing over the outside edges of the soft blue gem set into Ghirahim’s chest. He tries to move his hand away, but Ghirahim’s grip is firm, keeping him from pulling away or pushing forward.

“I don’t think you understand what this does to me,” Ghirahim practically growls. 

Link doesn’t. He simply shakes his head. 

Another growl, this one closer to his ear, “Touching me here would be like touching you _here._ ” Ghirahim’s other hand snakes down between them, thumbing at the top of Link’s trousers but no further. He’s simply comparing their anatomy; it’s not meant to be arousing, and yet…

“Can I touch you there?” Link asks, his eyes wide and face flushed. 

Ghirahim’s laughter is more than a chuckle, loud and throaty as it echoes through the tiny room, “Even knowing how you’re making me feel, you wish to touch me in such a way?”

Link nods, following the motion with a simple, “Yes.”

A scraping, wheezing noise comes from Ghirahim, and Link isn’t sure if it’s laughter or a gasp or something in between. Eagerness colors his voice, “You’re quite the handful, little hero. I’m going to lay you down, otherwise I might have trouble standing.”

The implication—that _Link_ could make Ghirahim weak at the knees—has him reeling, his blush spreading to the tips of his ears. 

Carrying his weight as if it’s nothing (and it likely is, Ghirahim’s strength is incomparable), Ghirahim brings them both to the ground. Placing his hands on Link’s hips, Ghirahim guides him to straddle his own. The hands stay in place, and Link nearly melts into the touch, finding that being held in such a way is warm and secure.

With a tentative hand, Link reaches out toward the gem, “Can I–”

His words are cut off as Ghirahim grabs at his hand, pulling it forward to brush against the gem. The moan that rings out beneath him is like no other. It’s throaty and strained, yet it sounds light and metallic, like tinkling wind chimes.

Taking that as an indication of what he should do, Link traces a finger around the outside edges of the gem. He doesn’t intend to tease, but the way that Ghirahim’s hips wiggle beneath him show that no matter his intentions, that’s what’s happening. Not wanting to hold off any longer, Link presses two fingers onto the gem’s surface, pushing them along one of the edges until he reaches the point.

His own breath hitches when he feels more than hears Ghirahim gasp beneath him. He traces along each of the four edges, ending at the center point. Link then touches across the facets of Ghirahim’s gem, noting the spots he likes most and how much pressure is enough. 

Ghirahim’s hand grabs at his once more, pressing the surface of his palm flat against the gem. Link’s fingers cover most of its expanse, and when he pushes experimentally with the entirety of his hand, Ghirahim lets out a fluttering, wheezing breath.

“Just like that,” Ghirahim urges him on, pushing at Link’s hand until the pressure is just enough. 

Link never could have imagined that Ghirahim would be capable of falling apart like this, let alone at his own hand. The Sacred Flame still burns nearby, causing soft flecks of green to dance across Ghirahim’s black, metallic body. The light is even brighter along the white diamond shapes, and Link can’t help but run the fingers of his free hand along them. 

The small diamond on Ghirahim’s forehead intrigues him, so Link brushes against it. The noise he makes in response isn’t one of arousal, but rather, a deep, contented sigh. Link leans up, up, his body to kiss softly at the tiny diamond, placing another kiss on Ghirahim’s lips as he moves back down. 

Moving slowly, Link brings his mouth toward Ghirahim’s gem, licking softly near the outside edge. He savors the taste of Ghirahim, of metal and heat and something light, and speaks against his chest, “Can I use my mouth?”

“Oh Link, with a voice as sweet as yours, I don’t know how we haven’t ended up here sooner. _Yes,_ ” he emphasizes his approval by fisting a hand in Link’s hair, easily pushing aside his cap and pulling him closer to his gem.

Licking along the sides briefly, Link quickly moves on to the point, licking around it in circles, laying his tongue flat to lick along the length of each edge. Ghirahim is incredibly vocal, his chest rumbling with every noise that’s pulled out of him. Link finds that he enjoys it a bit _too_ much, already feeling slickness gathering between his legs. 

The hand in his hair holds tight, Ghirahim’s claws scratching pleasantly against his scalp. With every little lick against Ghirahim’s gem, Link can feel the way his chest pushes up into his mouth. 

Wanting to truly please Ghirahim while testing his limits along the way, Link wraps his mouth around the point of his gem and _sucks._ Ghirahim grabs at his hair and holds him firmly in place, causing Link to let out a muffled moan. He doesn’t mind that, not at all. He sucks at Ghirahim with fervor, darting his tongue around wherever he can reach.

One of Ghirahim’s hands pulls away from his head, instead entwining their fingers together. Link melts into the touch, into the _intimacy_ of it. He yelps around Ghirahim’s gem when his hand is suddenly met with wetness. Ghirahim has moved both of their hands toward his mouth, and that long tongue of his is busy slotting itself between their fingers. 

His hand is let go, and just as quickly, Ghirahim grabs him by the wrist, nibbling the meat of his palm with his fangs, Goddess his _fangs._ Link cries out and moans around Ghirahim’s gem, feeling himself growing increasingly worked up. 

Ghirahim teases the length of his white tongue around one of Link’s fingers, and as if that isn’t enough, he pulls it into his mouth, sucking at the digit almost as insistently as Link sucks at his gem. His tongue still swirls around Link’s finger, and he nearly melts at the sensation of how hot and _wet_ Ghirahim’s mouth is. He never could have imagined such a thing would be pleasurable, yet as Ghirahim sucks on his finger, he feels himself throbbing with need. With a wet, slurping noise, Ghirahim sucks another one of Link’s fingers into his mouth. 

Link cries out at that, his voice loud and shaky. Ghirahim flicks his tongue along the webbing of his two fingers and Link can’t help but imagine how it might feel on his dick. Biting at his fingers now, gentle though making the presence of his fangs known, Ghirahim continues to lick and suck at them until Link can’t take it anymore. 

He moves away from Ghirahim’s gem and pulls his fingers out of his mouth. The noise Ghirahim makes is stuck between a whine and a growl, and his eyes narrow in irritation. His voice definitely holds the edge of a growl, “What are you _doing?_ Do you find it amusing to tease me? Do you think I will take it easy on you after this?”

Staring down into Ghirahim’s white eyes, Link watches as the Sword Spirit takes him in. His eyes flick across Link’s face, taking in his expression and calming down. 

Soft murmurs are placed into his skin, “I apologize. You have the right to stop at any time, if that is what you wish.”

“No, I–” Link cuts himself off, unsure of what to say. 

“I want…” He flushes bright red, and Ghirahim grins widely as soon as he notices, his tongue hanging out of his mouth to lick at his lips. 

Warm hands soothe across his hips, and Link sighs into the touch, sinking into Ghirahim.

“I want um–” unsure how to say what he’s thinking, Link cuts himself off. Instead, he grabs at one of the hands wrapped around his hips, bringing it in between his legs. He’s so wet he can feel it with every movement he makes, and though he knows that he hasn’t soaked through his trousers, he’s sure that Ghirahim is able to feel him when he presses close enough against him.

“ _Oh–_ ” Ghirahim’s voice is raspy, high and metallic. His fangs are bared in a way that makes Link want to beg to be touched more. 

“Of course I’ll oblige you, little hero. I want to see how handsome you are when you fall apart above me,” he coos, and Link feels a shock go up his spine. 

Ghirahim’s tongue hangs out of his mouth in some sort of invitation, and Link thinks he might have gotten the wrong idea. He wants Ghirahim’s tongue, yes, but not now, not yet. There’s something else he needs more than that. 

Brushing his hand against the edges of Ghirahim’s gem, Link rasps out, “Here. I want you here.”

In any other situation, the way Ghirahim’s face lights up with surprise would be humorous. Somehow, it’s arousing to know that Link has shocked him speechless, rendered him unable to form even simple words.

“ _Oh._ I hadn’t even thought of such a thing. Yes, yes, let’s do that instead,” Ghirahim brushes across his dick, even through his layers of clothing, and Link’s hips jerk forward.

His hands tremble with excitement as he works at the leather straps fastened across his back, pulling at his gloves and tunic with growing impatience.

“Let me help you with that,” Ghirahim’s voice is deeper than ever, thick with lust and want. 

With a snap of Ghirahim’s claw-tipped fingers, Link’s clothes vanish. He’s so eager that he doesn’t even think to cry out or feel embarrassed, though he does feel his face heat up further at the way Ghirahim drags his eyes up and down his naked form. Link shivers with pleasure, relishing in the warmth of Ghirahim’s body pressed up against his bare skin, fueled by flames both sacred and intimate.

Bracing his hands on Ghirahim’s shoulders, Link moves up his body, finally settling with his hips just behind Ghirahim’s gem. 

He places Ghirahim’s hands on his hips, not minding the way his claws press the slightest bit into his skin. Link is hard and wet and _wanting,_ so he doesn’t waste any more time. Rolling his hips forward, Link pushes the gem between his folds. He cries out instantly, overwhelmed by _everything_ about it. 

Greedily, he pushes forward once more, allowing Ghirahim’s gem to part his folds and rub up against him, savoring the way it drags through his slick. On the next thrust, the drag is even smoother, even sweeter, Ghirahim’s gem now covered in the evidence of Link’s arousal. 

The sensation of the gem rubbing up against him is like no other. It pulses occasionally as if to indicate Ghirahim’s own arousal, and Link can’t get enough. It’s pleasantly warm and feels different than the rest of Ghirahim’s body, just as smooth but somehow softer than the metal that makes up the rest of him. 

With each drag of Link’s hips, the gem makes the tiniest of squelching noises as it moves through his slick folds. Link can’t get enough, but more than that, he soaks in Ghirahim’s loud, rumbling moans and praises. His words have that strange metallic edge, again sounding like tinkling wind chimes, but it’s still low and strained. With each whispered praise and stilted moan that comes from Ghirahim, Link finds himself more aroused, letting out noises of his own. 

He manages to time the pulsing of Ghirahim’s gem just right, pushing it up against his dick just as it throbs against him. 

Still savoring the feeling of Ghirahim pressed between his folds, of fucking himself on it, Link attempts to coordinate his movements. If he pushes far enough forward, Ghirahim’s gem will press up against his cock, its warmth against him already enough to have him close to screaming. It pulses every few seconds, so if he thrusts forward at the right time, it will be pressed against his clit as it throbs. 

Link is a mess in the best of ways, and he savors every movement between them, taking in every place in which their skin is pressed together. Each time the gem fucks up against his folds, Link whines low in his throat, and when it pulses against his dick, his whine is pulled upward into a high-pitched moan. 

The frequency of the pulses steadily increases, and somehow Link knows that it means that Ghirahim is close. The pulses are so close together now that he doesn’t even bother to drag the gem through his folds (though he misses the sensation, misses the wet squelching and the hot drag of it against his flesh), instead pushing the gem insistently against his clit.

Claws dig into his hips, and Link wishes that he could kiss Ghirahim, but the angle isn’t right. Instead, he settles for softly brushing against the gem on Ghirahim’s forehead, providing him with pleasure both soft and heady. 

Soon enough, all of it is too much—Ghirahim’s gem pulsing hard and fast against his dick, the sounds, the sights, the feeling of it all, the way that Ghirahim won’t stop telling him how beautiful and handsome he is and how only _he_ could wreck Link like this. 

Link comes with his loudest cry yet, his hips still frantically pressing him toward Ghirahim’s gem. With a final pulse, Ghirahim cries out as well, his claws digging into the soft flesh of Link’s thighs as he reaches his own orgasm. 

It’s the most intense thing that Link has ever felt in his life, made even more overwhelming by the warmth of Ghirahim’s skin pressed against him, by the way his words and soft sounds rumble through them both. 

Well and truly fucked out, Link collapses against Ghirahim’s chest, panting for breath. Ghirahim heaves beneath him as well, and he smiles softly at that. 

With a long, contented sigh, Link pushes himself up on strong shoulders, seeking out a kiss. Instead, he’s met with the sight of Ghirahim’s gem, shining and wet and covered in his slick. Link flushes to the tips of his ears, and when Ghirahim follows his gaze, he lets out soft peals of laughter. 

Strong, warm hands push against Link’s shoulders, guiding him down into a kiss. It’s short and sweet, and when Ghirahim pulls away, their lips brush together as he speaks, “I’m sure you’ll be able to clean that up in a bit. And I’d also like to use my mouth on you.” Ghirahim’s tongue flicks out of his mouth, licking across Link’s lips and causing him to squeal. 

“But for now, little hero, I want to keep you close,” Ghirahim pulls him into another kiss, just as soft though filled with deeper intimacy. 

Link allows his face to be tucked close to Ghirahim’s neck, savoring the feeling of strong arms holding him close. He kisses gently along the warmth of Ghirahim’s neck, melting further into him with each moment they spend pressed together. Ghirahim’s words rumble through his body and into his heart, “You might be my master, but it is you who is _mine,_ Link.”


	28. Midlink - Lingerie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops very late but i am doing my best
> 
> reverse bunny suit for link minus the bunny parts. just a cute, strange little outfit he managed to come across.
> 
> enjoy!

Link returns to her more unkempt than usual, but it isn’t out of the ordinary for him to look disheveled. Midna welcomes him into her bed, as always. When he opens his arms for an embrace, she holds him tightly, feeling the way his weight relaxes against her. 

“Why don’t you take off these,” she thumbs at the straps holding Link’s sword and shield in place, “And your boots, too. Then I’ll hold you as much as you want, alright puppy?”

With a short nod, Link crawls off the bed. He’s careful with his sword and shield as he sets them on the ground, but the way he yanks at his boots betrays his eagerness.

Grinning to herself, Midna beckons Link back toward the bed. She pushes his cap away easily enough, carding her fingers through his hair and working through the tangles she finds. Surprisingly, his hair isn’t _too_ unruly, but she still spends a good few minutes combing out the mess. Link leans into her touch, resting his head on her chest and sighing contentedly with each knot that Midna gently works out. 

When Midna finishes with Link’s hair, she pushes him off of her and moves to lay on her side, pulling him close so that they face one another. Midna is _long_ and it’s rather easy for her to envelop Link with the length of her body.

The nickname “puppy” isn’t unwarranted, as Midna knows that if Link were a wolf right now, his tail would be wagging happily. She places a kiss on his forehead, telling him that he’s a good boy. 

They bask in each other’s presence like that for Goddess knows how long. Midna doesn’t move until Link begins to doze with his face pressed up against her chest. Grinning to herself, she playfully smacks at Link’s ass. She knows how much he likes to have his ass touched, but Midna hadn’t meant it like _that._ Needless to say, it’s a surprise when he jerks out of his sleepy haze and moans against her skin. 

Teasing intentionally now, Midna lays her hand over Link’s ass and pulls him closer. She keeps her hand in place though she doesn’t squeeze or grope at Link at all. It’s just enough to keep Link awake, but not enough to actually get him going. 

Except _oh,_ held together like this, it’s impossible for Midna to miss the sensation of Link’s erection pressed up against her. 

“Puppy, are you hard?” She peers down at him, knowing his answer already but wanting to see his face.

A blush erupts across Link’s cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears. Midna pokes at the point of one, cooing as it twitches in response. Though he’s often submissive, Link isn’t usually so _shy,_ and she finds it strangely endearing. It’s unlike Link to avoid eye contact or get hard from the slightest bit of teasing.

Link pulls away, and Midna worries that she’d said something wrong. She watches as he fumbles with the bottom of his tunic and smiles to herself, her worries eased. 

Raising a hand and poising to snap her fingers, Midna stops when one of Link’s hands covers her own.

“Wanna do it myself,” his voice is low and gruff, and Midna isn’t sure if it’s because of his arousal or if talking is difficult for him right now. Nevertheless, she concedes, allowing Link to continue undressing himself. 

Link’s tunic is pulled off slowly, followed by his arm guards and gloves. The chainmail clinks to the ground, and though the sound is loud, Midna is much more interested in Link. Thumbing at the bottom of his undershirt, Link is suddenly more hesitant. He pulls at the shirt much too slowly, revealing toned muscle and scarred skin. Inch by inch, Midna watches as more of Link is revealed to her, wondering if his intention is to put on a show. 

When he reaches the sleeves, Link hesitates once more before pulling the undershirt completely off. 

Below the undershirt is…well, Midna isn’t quite sure what it is. The fabric is a soft blue, a close match to the markings that run down her arms and legs. Midna hesitates to call it a shirt—though it has long sleeves, it’s cut above Link’s nipples, showing off most of his chest. 

She reaches a hand out, and when Link doesn’t pull away, she pushes forward and runs her hand down his arm. The fabric is soft to the touch, and it’s tight enough that it shows off the defined muscles of Link’s arms.

Midna runs a finger across the bottom of the tiny shirt, jaw nearly dropping at the way it emphasizes the muscles of Link’s chest, drawing attention to the hardness of his nipples. 

“Can I touch you here?” She asks simply, gesturing toward Link’s chest. 

Link nods in approval and Midna leans in to suck at one of his nipples. He cries out, surely expecting her fingers instead. One of Midna’s hands gropes and squeezes at Link’s bicep, and she moves her free hand to pinch and pull at his other nipple. He whines deep in his throat as Midna teases him, using the sharpness of her teeth to lightly scrape across his nipple. Satisfied, she pulls away, ghosting hot breath across the wet skin as she does. 

She’s just about to move her tongue toward Link’s other nipple when he speaks, drawing her attention to his face, “There’s more.”

Midna sits next to Link, lightly touching at his chest while he fumbles with the strings of his trousers. He’s _never_ this shy, and Midna realizes that his new outfit must be the cause.

Though she keeps her hands occupied elsewhere, Midna’s eyes are trained on Link’s lower body, curiosity eating away at her. Just what else could he be hiding from her, and how could it possibly compare to the tight fabric stretched across his arms and shoulders? 

When Link finally unties his trousers, he hesitates _again._ Midna is more than eager to find out just what it is he’s wearing that has him so shy. Deciding that he deserves some encouragement, Midna leans down to whisper lowly into Link’s ear, “Go on, Link, show me just how pretty you are. Show me what you look like, all dressed up for me.” She follows her words with her tongue, licking across the tip of his ear. 

The encouragement is enough, apparently, as Link’s hesitation turns into eagerness almost instantly. Once fumbling hands practically _tear_ his pants off, and they’re quickly forgotten about on the floor. 

Somehow, Link has managed to outdo himself. His legs are wrapped in black stockings, the fabric straining around the muscles of his thighs and calves. The stockings are transparent enough that she can peek at the scars scattered across his legs. That alone is enough to drive Midna crazy, but there’s _more._ The stockings reach all the way up to the curve of his ass though they stop just below it, perfectly framing the hardness of his cock.

“Oh _puppy,_ ” she practically growls the word out, the sight of Link like this causing her to grow even more aroused.

Midna thumbs at Link’s inner thighs, tracing along the tops of the stockings. She can’t resist working a finger in between the fabric and Link’s skin, petting softly at his leg. Link moans and squirms, but he holds mostly still under her advances. 

Just as the shirt frames his chest and nipples, the stockings emphasize Link’s cock, and Midna can’t say that she doesn’t want a taste. 

Never one to be shy about her desires, Midna simply states, “I want to suck your cock.”

Link nearly chokes, his thighs now trembling beneath her soft touches. A low whine, almost a growl, pushes out from his throat, his words eager and rushed, “Yes Midna, please. Whatever you want, just _please._ ”

With a small chuckle, Midna pushes Link back down onto the bed, kissing his lips softly before working her way down his body. His hips squirm impatiently beneath her, but all it takes for him to hold still is a glare and a flash of her fangs. Impatient as she is, Midna takes her time to explore Link’s body, drawn in by the sight of his tanned skin and toned muscles and the scant clothing that highlights his best features. 

Her tongue hangs out of her mouth, long and black, and finally she runs out of patience. Licking along Link’s hips, she dips lower and swallows him into her mouth, sucking at the head of his cock and nothing else. 

Link whines deep in his throat, but he knows by now to hold still. Midna wraps both of her hands around the thickness of Link’s thighs, feeling at the stockings and the muscles that lay beneath the flimsy fabric. Link is hard and heavy in her mouth, and Midna wonders just how long he’s been worked up. 

Pulling away, she voices her curiosity, “Did you have this on under your clothes all day? Were you waiting for me to see you like this? Did the thought make you as hard as you are now?”  
  
She gets little more than a moan in response, though he follows it up with a soft, “Yes.” It’s the answer she’d been hoping for, the perfect response to all of her questions.

Link is going to come quickly; she can tell by the way he leaks into her mouth. But she doesn’t mind. His stamina has always been exceptional, so she’s sure that he’ll be raring to go again soon enough, especially considering how worked up he is after spending the day with this strange outfit hidden beneath his normal clothes.

It takes time to work herself up to swallowing the entirety of his length, but she’s pleased with herself when she does. Link is throbbing in her mouth, and she knows it won’t take much more for him to be sent over the edge.

Putting her tongue to good use and squeezing harshly at Link’s thighs, Midna knows just what that _something more_ is. She releases her grip on one of Link’s legs, stroking across the stocking there before moving her hand below his cock. Two fingers push up against his taint, the pressure soft but insistent. He makes a noise louder than any other, his head thrashing about at the sensation. Midna hollows her cheeks and pushes once more at Link’s taint, harder this time. 

It only takes one more push of her fingers before Link is coming into her mouth, babbling a string of “I love you”s and “Midna”s and “please”s. Midna swallows her fill before pulling away, though she's sure to lick up the drops of cum still gathered on the head of Link’s cock. 

Link is breathing hard, soft pants filling the air between them. His chest glows with a sheen of sweat, and watching it heave while the strange shirt is wrapped around him is like nothing else. 

Midna leaves Link’s cock alone, though she’s enthralled by the way it twitches when she pulls away. She can’t help chuckling, but she muffles the noise by kissing Link, licking into his mouth easily enough. 

“Well puppy, you’re certainly full of surprises,” she whispers in his ear, moving down to bite at his neck. Though doesn’t make him bleed, her fangs are still put to good use sucking marks into his skin. Link squirms beneath her but the breathy moans and soft pleas of her name are more than enough to know that he’s enjoying himself. 

Quicker than Midna would have expected, Link grows to hardness, his cock pressed up against her thighs. 

“Yet another surprise,” she whispers.

What a sight Link makes beneath her, stocking-clad legs splayed out, chest brought to prominence, eyes staring up into her own. As Midna fucks herself on Link’s cock, she realizes that she’s never seen such a beautiful sight. She’s sure to tell Link as much, reveling in the blush that spreads across his cheeks. When they kiss, she pours all of her love into him, glad to receive Link’s love in return.


	29. Ghiralink - Telepathic Bonds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> late ALSO i am doing my most here
> 
> i rly rly like this one honestly? 
> 
> ghiralink makes me fheflsdhlsdj

_I could bend you over this table and fuck you right now._

Link chokes and coughs, nearly spitting out his soup in the process. He splutters as he tries to talk, thinking of what he could _possibly_ say in response to that.

From his seat across the table, Ghirahim smiles, feigning innocence. But there’s a smirk gleaming in his eyes, just for Link, and it’s clear that he’s by no means apologetic about what he’s done. 

To be fair, Link knows how much Ghirahim hates the Lumpy Pumpkin. But he’d wanted pumpkin soup, dammit, and he wasn’t going to let Ghirahim’s sour mood get in the way of his dinner. He’s certain that this is his punishment for dragging them both out of the house (and out of bed), and he just _knows_ that Ghirhaim isn’t going to stop anytime soon.

Bringing a spoonful of soup up to his mouth, Link glares at Ghirahim while he savors the taste, making it clear that he isn’t pleased.

_Those pretty lips of yours would look so good wrapped around my cock._

Glare intensifying, Link takes another bite of his soup. It takes all of his willpower to keep from snapping back at Ghirahim, either aloud or through their bond. He won’t let Ghirahim have the satisfaction of goading a response out of him. 

Beneath the table, a foot kicks his leg. Link kicks right back. Sparing a glance at Ghirahim reveals that his tongue is hanging out of his mouth, slowly licking his lips. Link looks away, choosing to focus on his soup instead. He almost snorts at the frustrated whine that comes from Ghirahim, though he refuses to give him even that. 

It’s going to be a _long_ night.

* * *

As soon as Link opens the door to their house in Faron Woods, Ghirahim is upon him. He barely takes the time to shut the door before Link is being pushed up against it, sharp fangs at his neck.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, Skychild,” Ghirahim growls into his neck, biting a mark into the skin and licking over it with his tongue.

Link laughs at that. Ghirahim makes an indignant noise against his neck, but even after that he can’t hold back his laughter. His voice is breathy, his words punctuated by chuckles, “You’re the one who hasn’t left me alone! I was just trying to eat my soup, but you kept making _suggestions_ for what I should be using my mouth for instead. I was _eating,_ Ghirahim!”

Unsurprisingly, Ghirahim scoffs in response. He’s moved on from Link’s neck, now licking at the tip of his ear. His words are low and dark yet filled with warmth, “Don’t act as if you didn’t enjoy every little idea I whispered into your mind. I know you imagined them all, whether you’ll admit to it or not.”

He honestly had been focusing on his soup, but he can’t deny that Ghirahim’s words had gotten to him, even if only the slightest bit. 

Pushing power into his voice, Link stares up into Ghirahim’s eyes, “Well maybe you should do something about it then. Maybe you should fix the problem you created. _Maybe_ if you had something better to do with your mouth, you wouldn’t be saying so much nonsense.”

A second passes. Then two. Link stares up into Ghirahim’s eyes, and they both burst out into laughter. 

“Oh Skychild, it’s so sweet when you try to be bossy,” he pauses to laugh and Link joins in, mirth sparkling in both of their eyes. He clears his throat before continuing, though his tone is notably lighter, “But I would like to suck your cock, if that offer is still on the table.”

Link flusters almost instantly. As much as he uses fanciful language, when they talk about _this,_ Ghirahim is much more blunt. It always gets to Link, perhaps more than it should.

“ _Please._ ” He hadn’t meant to sound desperate, but he _is,_ and even if his voice hadn’t given it away, he’s sure that the look on his face already has.

Still pushed up against the front door, Link watches as Ghirahim slowly kneels, dragging his claws down Link’s clothed chest as he goes. Unlike Link, Ghirahim’s hands never seem to falter in a situation like this. He makes quick work of untying Link’s trousers, shoving them down around his knees. He lets out a frustrated growl when he sees that there’s another layer of clothing in the way, but he’s quick to pull Link’s boxers down as well.

Link hadn’t realized just how hard he is until that moment. Exposed to air and free from the confines of his pants, his cock _aches._ He whines when Ghirahim doesn’t touch him right away, already impatient.

Ghirahim’s knees hit the floor with a soft _thud_ , his hands wrapping firmly around Link’s hips. Satisfied that he’s held in place, Ghirahim moves forward, licking at the head of Link’s cock. Despite the length of his tongue, he starts out with small movements, teasing Link and making him want for more. When Link’s whines become truly agitated, he shows mercy, wrapping the length of his tongue around the head of his cock.

If his hips weren’t held down with such a tight grip, Link surely would have pushed forward into Ghirahim’s mouth. But they are, so instead Ghirahim teases him with his tongue alone, purposefully avoiding the use of his mouth.

The noises coming from Ghirahim are sloppy and wet, his tongue lapping at every part of Link that he’s able to reach. Growing impatient himself, he finally sucks Link into his mouth. He closes his lips around the head, sucking until Link lets out a needy, high-pitched moan. Ghirahim smirks with his eyes, staring up at Link as he sucks his cock further into his mouth.

He watches as a blush erupts across Link’s face, well and truly flustered now. Looking at him like this always gets him embarrassed, though he’ll never be the first to look away. Taking advantage of that fact, Ghirahim stares up at Link, locking their gazes together.

Link isn’t faring well. His knees are trembling with the effort of holding himself up, and the look Ghirahim has him pinned down with isn’t helping. He’s beyond flustered, his face hot, and the only sounds he’s able to make are moans and whines and incoherent, babbling words.

With all of the sounds that Link is making, he’s suddenly grateful that Ghirahim’s mouth is full, unable to add the noise.

_You look so lovely like this, your face burning hot just for me. Look at me, Link._

Somehow, Link had forgotten about their bond, the thing that had caused this entire situation in the first place. He squeezes his eyes shut, unable to look at Ghirahim _and_ listen to his voice whispering in his mind.

_I want to see your pretty eyes._

The smirk in Ghirahim’s eyes only burns brighter, suddenly visible as Link opens his own, and before he’s able to become more flustered, Ghirahim pushes forward to swallow the entirety of his cock. The look in his eyes and the sloppy wet sounds he’s making and the _sensations_ themselves are too much, and Link’s trembling knees buckle. Link falls to the ground in a heap, his back still pressed up against the door, and Ghirahim follows him down.

A snap rings out between them and then Link is naked and Ghirahim’s mouth is back on him, undeterred by his inability to stay standing. 

His moans are nearly deafening to his own ears, and Ghirahim only adds to the noise with his mouth. Link almost tenses, expecting more words to ring out in his mind. When they don’t, he nearly sags into the ground with a strange mixture of disappointment and relief.

_If only you could see yourself…_

Link snaps to attention in an instant. When he looks down at Ghirahim, his eyes swim with something beyond a smirk, smug and confident. Goddesses, he can’t take it, yet he isn’t able to look away.

_Brought to your knees by my mouth alone. Is this the “something better” you hoped I would do?_

It’s a question that he knows he’s expected to answer. Link swallows once, twice, trying to collect his thoughts enough that when he opens his mouth, more than moans and whines will fall from it. They still do, but he’s able to force words out as well, “This is much better than anything I could have imagined.”

Sometimes feeding Ghirahim’s ego is a mistake, and sometimes it pays off. The soft coo that echoes through his mind isn’t indicative of either, and Link isn’t sure what to expect. 

He’s caught off guard by a tidal wave of sensations. Ghirahim moans around his cock, and it shouldn’t feel so good but it _does,_ and Link is helpless to do anything but writhe beneath him. The vibrations of his mouth shake through him, and then Link’s legs are shaking, too. As if that weren’t enough, Ghirahim starts speaking to him at the same time.

_So perfect, writhing beneath me._

A hand grabs at his thigh and squeezes.

_And your legs are absolutely trembling with need. Do you want to come, Link? Is that what you want, to come in my mouth with my tongue wrapped around your cock?_

Link’s head moves frantically, bobbing up and down, his legs still shaking. The hand around his thigh lets go, grabbing at one of his own where they’re balled up into fists at his sides. Link allows Ghirahim to grab his hand, pulling at it until it’s buried in white hair. His grip is loose, stroking through Ghirahim’s hair more than grabbing or pulling it.

_You can use your other hand, too, since you look like you need something to hold on to._

A chuckle rings out through Link’s mind, dark and haughty but impossibly thick with pleasure.

 _Do_ not _pull or push at my hair or my head. My mouth is not for you to use at your leisure. I know you know this, but I feel that you need a…reminder, what with how lost in this you’ve become._

Ghirahim’s words in his mind are like nothing else. His voice echoes more than it does when he talks aloud, and somehow talking through the bond like this feels so _intimate,_ so close that Link can’t begin to explain it with words. To allow Ghirahim access to his mind like this, knowing he’ll be kept safe—it’s more than he can take. Link can’t even talk back to him aloud, let alone through their bond. It takes concentration and effort to do so, and his mind is much too addled with pleasure to do anything but sink into each and every sensation, letting Ghirahim wash over him in every way possible.

Fisting his hands in Ghirahim’s hair, it takes Link the last of his conscious thought to keep from pulling it. He hangs on to Ghirahim, seeking out some sort of stability amongst his mounting pleasure.

A hand sneaks behind his cock, brushing across his hole but not inside, not without something to ease the way. Nevertheless, the sensation is too much, and what it promises is even more intense.

Everything hits Link at once, from the finger pressed against his hole to Ghirahim’s mouth, so hot and tight, swallowing down his cock. His tongue is still wrapped around Link’s length, letting out a constant stream of wet noises and moans that vibrate through him. But there’s more, so much _more_ —when Ghirahim speaks in his mind, Link is overcome with the feeling of being possessed, both body and mind.

_Come for me, Link._

And he does. His orgasm tears through him, his mouth open to let out the loudest noise he’s made yet, a cry of Ghirahim’s name that quickly hitches up into a shrill moan. Link can’t see, as overcome as he is, and all he can do is feel the way Ghirahim fucks him through it, though he can’t even focus on that. 

Thighs shaking, Link finally comes down to the sensation of Ghirahim chuckling into the soft skin of his leg.

“I think you’ve learned now that having my mouth occupied won’t keep me quiet. I must say, however, that I’m not at all opposed to keeping my mouth busy with you,” he nips at Link’s thigh before pulling away, gazing up at him from between his legs.

Link is beyond flustered, barely recovered from his orgasm and already hit with Ghirahim’s teasing. His face is still flushed red, his chest heaving with the force of his breaths. He lets out another shrill moan when Ghirahim laps at the head of his cock, maintaining eye contact while he does. 

“Let’s get you to the bed. I’d much prefer that we don’t make even more of a mess of the floor,” his words come along with a haughty smirk, his tongue poking out to lick across his lips.

Though his blush burns just as bright as before, Link nods, allowing Ghirahim to pick him up. With one hand beneath his knees and the other at his shoulders, he’s held close to Ghirahim’s chest, leaning into his warmth.

A soft kiss is pressed into his hair, followed by even softer words, “I love you.”

They rush off to the bedroom as if Ghirahim hadn’t said it at all, but Link isn’t that easily distracted. He leans up to whisper into Ghirahim’s ear, echoing his words with an “I love you” of his own and smiling as he’s tossed down onto the bed. Even as Ghirahim advances on him, Link can’t keep a smile off of his face. Even after he’d been rendered speechless, Ghirahim still has so much to say.


	30. Sidlink - Deepthroating

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the shortest piece so far but that's ok bc i'm p sure day 31 is going to be the longest. so excited about that one that this one was hard to write, but i hope that it's still enjoyable.
> 
> i realize it definitely isn't on the same level as the other sidlink chapters i've written so far, but i still hope that it's enjoyable.

“I’m going to take all of you.” 

Link says it with so much conviction that Sidon almost believes him. 

His voice is choked out, torn between a low moan and something closer to a growl, “Please be careful my pearl. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I have the utmost confidence in your…” he pauses, his breath hitching when Link wraps his mouth around the heads of both of his cocks, “...abilities. Just remember that I’m much larger than you.”

Almost as soon as he’s finished speaking, Sidon feels as if he shouldn’t have said anything at all. Link has never been one to back down from a challenge, and the fire in his eyes tells him that this isn’t any different. 

Calloused hands pet at his thighs, as if it’s Sidon who needs to be comforted through this. The thought is almost laughable.

Sidon’s attention is drawn back toward Link, settled between his legs. He pulls his mouth away, though he follows its retreat with his tongue. Link is strong enough that he can hold Sidon’s hips down, preventing any wayward movement toward his face.  _ Both  _ of Sidon’s cocks are large, but the one on top is slightly smaller. The head is more tapered, and overall it’s the best choice for what Link wants to do.

Not wanting to be unfair, Link wraps his tongue around the head of the other, larger cock, licking up slick and precum alike. He knows from experience that he can’t take much more than the head of this one, so he doesn’t bother trying.

Keeping his hand on Sidon’s lower cock, Link wraps his lips around the one on top. It’s easy enough to play with the tip, and he knows he could make Sidon come just like this. But that isn’t what he wants. 

Bracing his hands on Sidon’s hips, Link pushes his mouth further down his cock, saliva dribbling out from the corners of his mouth. He has to forcibly remind himself to breathe through his nose.

With a deep breath, Link eases more of Sidon into his mouth, letting out a soft moan when his cock twitches against his tongue. Sidon twitches again, but Link keeps quiet, worried that they’ll never move forward if they continue like this. Taking another deep breath, Link sucks more of Sidon down, his jaw stretched to its limit.

He’s moved past the tapered head, and Link is beyond relieved that he’s already reached the thickest part of the shaft. He’s a little more than halfway down, but with the way his jaw is already aching, he knows he wouldn’t be able to take it if Sidon’s girth was any wider. He holds firm on Sidon’s hips, though he occasionally pulls a hand away to stroke at his other cock, playing with the head and covering his hand in slick.

Finally adjusted to the length and as comfortable as he’s going to get with the girth, Link pushes for more. He chooses that moment to look up into Sidon’s eyes, meeting his gaze with liquid heat.

Sidon moans at the sight of Link, becoming even louder when their eyes meet. He’s tempted to cover his face, to look away, yet Link is much too captivating to ever do such a thing. Mouth stuffed full of cock, Link is quite the sight, his blue eyes sparkling with determination and arousal.

Gills fluttering, Sidon tries to prepare himself for Link’s determination. His mouth is warm and wet around him, and he isn’t sure he’ll be able to take it if Link somehow manages to fit the entirety of his cock in his mouth.

He cries out when Link suddenly takes in another inch, seemingly abandoning his slow pace. 

Link chokes. There’s no other way to describe what he’s feeling. He’d taken too much, too quickly, and now he’s barely able to breathe through his flaring nostrils. He pulls off of Sidon’s cock, his chest heaving with the effort it takes to suck in each breath. Saliva and slick drips from his lips, falling back onto Sidon’s cocks and making even more of a mess than before. 

“Oh my pearl, it’s quite alright,” Sidon coos, intending to comfort him.

No. Link doesn’t want comfort, and right now, he doesn’t need Sidon’s softness. He’d said he was going to suck his cock, and he intends to keep his word. With a sharp growl that indicates just how unwanted Sidon’s comfort is, Link sucks his cock back into his mouth.

Sidon nearly screams. The pace isn’t as quick as when Link had choked himself, but it’s still intense, especially since he’d assumed that Link would be unable to continue. 

He digs his claws into the sheets, nearly tearing the soft silk with the force of his grip. He needs something to hang on to, and he knows that if he reaches for Link’s head, he’ll become much too pushy. Link needs to do this at his own pace or not at all.

Though Link takes things slower this time around, he’s no less eager. As he swallows Sidon down, he takes more time to moan around him and lick at him the best he can. His mouth is overwhelmed with heat, with how large and heavy Sidon is against his tongue. He isn’t choking, not again, but there’s a steady dribble of saliva coming from his mouth as he strains from the effort of sucking Sidon’s cock.

The further down he goes, the more Sidon twitches in his mouth. Link knows that he’s close, all of the twitching a clear indicator that he’s near the edge of orgasm. Sidon’s other cock is just as heavy in Link’s hand, leaking a steady stream of precum as he strokes along its length.

Link looks up at Sidon again, meeting his gaze and refusing to back off. He watches the way Sidon squirms, the way his gills flare and his breath hitches. Though his mouth is full, his eyes smirk up at his prince, incredibly pleased with how much of a mess he’s become. Sidon moans at the way Link’s blue eyes stare down into his own but he still doesn’t look away, his claws tearing the sheets now. 

With a final push, jaw straining more than ever, Link sucks all of Sidon’s cock into his mouth. Lips flush with his leaking slit, there’s barely time to tease Sidon with his tongue before he comes.

It’s too much to have Link wrapped around him while staring at him like that. Link is warm and wet and  _ his,  _ and as soon as he fulfills his promise, Sidon is pushed over the edge.

He barely registers Link making a noise that’s halfway between choking and moaning, but he’s too lost in his all-consuming orgasm to do anything but listen. His cock  _ throbs  _ with the intensity of it all, absolutely spent. 

The next thing Sidon registers is Link crawling up his chest, licking up some of the mess that’s on his face. It looks like he’d managed to swallow most of Sidon’s cum, but there are drops here and there that leak out from his mouth. Link’s chest is  _ covered  _ in cum from his other cock, though it’s clear that he enjoys the mess. Sidon flushes bright blue, but he still accepts the soft kiss that Link gives him.

_ No more talking tonight, too sore,  _ Link signs. His hands are shaky, but his grin is as wide as it is proud.

“I understand, my love. I apologize that I’ve worn you out in such a way,” his words rumble through his chest.

Link scoffs,  _ I wanted this. Nobody’s fault. I enjoyed it. _

With a rather cheeky grin, starts to lay kisses all across Sidon’s face and fins. He’s surprisingly gentle, though he does nip at Sidon’s head fins and lick across his crest, teasing his most sensitive areas.

When Link pulls away, his smirk has gone from cheeky to wanting. His hands no longer shake when he signs,  _ Your turn to use your mouth. _

Sidon eagerly agrees.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
